In the Dark of Night (Season 5, Episode 7)
by bionic4ever
Summary: (Season 5, Episode 7): Will Jaime ever be able to lead a normal life? And is Michael the mastermind behind Anna's evil - or the one who can finally stop her? With Mark Conrad locked up and Jaime at odds with Oscar, trust is in short supply, and yet desperately needed! Many thanks to The Bionic Project! (Link in my profile - stop by and see us!)
1. Prologue

**IN THE DARK OF NIGHT** - Season 5, Episode 7

Prologue

_At least Oscar had enough compassion - and courtesy - not to throw me in The Hole_, Mark Conrad thought to himself. His own version of condemnation and confinement (that he'd fashioned in his own mind) were far worse than anything the OSI might be able to do to him. Jaime had awakened when Oscar had verbally wrenched him from her beside in the ER, and her tears had been a painful sock-in-the-gut...but as her therapist, Mark couldn't allow himself the luxury of acknowledging that pain. Then again, it might be a long time before he was allowed to treat her again (if ever) and being in the OSI's formal custody meant he had little to do _except_ sit and think.

The look on Jaime's face had been of someone who'd felt deeply betrayed. Mark wondered who she saw now as the one who'd broken her trust. Did she blame him...Oscar...Steve...or life in general for the pain inflicted on her? The more he thought about it, the clearer it became; almost _everyone_ in Jaime's circle had wronged her in one way or another. He, himself, had 'abandoned' her through the course of his own actions. He'd drugged her after she'd insisted she didn't need it (although his intentions had been only toward her best interests). He'd sent her after Steve with instructions to stick a needle into his neck so he could be brought safely out of the building to receive the help he'd needed, never pausing to think that it might be _Jaime_ who could be stuck and medicated instead - whether accidentally or on purpose. (He'd also been the one to fire Oscar's tranquilizer dart that had left Steve in a still uncertain state just one ER cubicle down from his wife's.)

Steve, of course, had been the one who'd stuck Jaime with the needle. Mark knew that - for now anyway - Jaime and Steve were the only ones who knew what had happened in that room just before the world around them had fallen apart. What had caused Steve to break out that window (bringing the burned-out skeleton that had once been National Medical crashing to the ground)? Had he seen Michael and Mark coming in after him? And if he'd truly turned that needle on Jaime by accident - putting her at severe risk of an overdose, since she was already medicated - why hadn't Steve handed her over to the doctors when he'd spotted them, so she could be helped?

Mark held no blame in his heart toward Oscar for his current predicament; he hoped Jaime didn't either. The OSI Director was simply doing his job and following the evidence. Even Mark had to admit to himself that the current evidence pointed squarely in his direction. Could he be Anna Kingsley's greatest pawn (without even realizing it himself), chosen because of his unique access and insight into everyone's minds? Or had Anna just succeeded in hurting every one of them, all in one fell swoop, by tossing in her biggest white lie - and red herring - to date?


	2. Chapter 1

In the Dark of Night - 1

''Hi, Jaime,'' the woman who appeared at her bedside began. ''I'm Doctor Irene Cohen. They asked me to look in on you since Mark Conrad couldn't be here and -''

Jaime sniffled, turning her face away from the newcomer. She couldn't help it; the woman reminded Jaime of the one who'd so comically ridden a bicycle at the beginning of Wizard of Oz. (Elmira Gulch had come to check on her!) Except...Jaime wasn't laughing. ''Go...'way...'' she whispered.

''I'm afraid I can't do that,'' 'Elmira'said firmly. ''You see, Doctor Conrad sent me.''

''Mark is...he's...in trouble...''

''Yes, he is,'' the new therapist confirmed. ''But maybe we can help him.''

Jaime could barely get the words out. ''Want to...help. He didn't...do anything...wrong.''

''That's for Mr. Goldman to determine.''

''He _didn't_!'' Jaime insisted. On first glance, she didn't like this new person - at all.

''You're not...interro -'' (The word was just too hard for the state Jaime was in.) ''You're not gonna _question_ me! I won't...let you.''

''Why don't you tell me what happened - what Doctor Conrad said and did - that has you so upset.''

''NO! He didn't...it wasn't him! _Oscar_ came and took him.''

Doctor Cohen took careful mental note of the fact that Jaime was on a first name basis with both Mark and Oscar; she wasn't sure if this was appropriate. ''_What happened_?'' she pressed. She had been filled in on very little, except that the OSI therapist Jaime had trusted over the course of several years was now in custody, suspected of breaking that trust. This patient needed her badly, whether she accepted that or not. And Jaime didn't know it, but Oscar was standing on the other side of the door, just outside of Jaime's line of vision, waiting to listen to her every word. When Jaime's only answer was a silent, hostile, stare, he had to step in.

''Michael's awake; he told us everything he could,'' Oscar explained. ''and his conduct is also questionable.'' He left out the fact that he, like the doctors, had known Jaime was already drugged when she was brought to try and talk Steve out of the facility. (Oscar had also known about the needle _and_ the tranquilizer dart...but he'd been acting in the best interests of the OSI...hadn't he?) He was already feeling Jaime's wrath,from the same hostile gaze she'd shot at the therapist.

''Get out! Both of you!'' Jaime cried.

''What did Doctor Conrad say to you?'' Cohen queried. ''How did he justify this?''

''He...meant well! I know...he did! Mark would...never hurt me...not on purpose!''

* * *

Jack Hansen stared blankly at the wall. They'd told him what he'd done - and like Russ before him, he simply couldn't believe he'd been manipulated in this way. She'd managed to get to him without his knowledge and used him as a pawn, caused him to hurt others for her in ways he simply wasn't able to accept. He was no longer allowed to speak with anyone by himself - not a therapist or even Oscar - as it was considered to high of a risk for anyone to take. They were coming to see him in groups of two or three now and Jack wasn't able to bring himself to speak or to even acknowledge the change. He couldn't give what he'd done the reality of actually speaking about it...to anybody. At least...not yet.

* * *

In Jaime's mind, _Oscar_ was the one who had truly wronged her, since the others had at least had a medical reason for what they'd done and were genuinely trying to help her. Well...everyone else except Oscar...and _Steve_. The last thing she remembered was when Steve had stuck her with the needle she'd been supposed to use on him. (Had it truly been an accident? She wasn't sure.) But what was happening with him - and why did they all seem to be hedging when she asked? The ER doc had told her she'd likely be going home tomorrow, once the drugs had fully left her system...but what about her husband?

''Is Steve awake yet?''

''No,'' Elmira told her. She'd checked on the way into Jaime's cubicle, as Steve would also be her patient once he'd regained consciousness. ''But he's showing some movement now; that's an excellent sign.''

This wasn't enough - and for Jaime, it didn't make sense. ''What...happened to him?'' she persisted. She'd already been unconscious when he'd been hit by the dart and no one seemed willing to admit enough guilt to answer this simple question for her. She wouldn't tell anyone what had happened (or what had been said) before she'd been re-sedated by her husband until she knew the _whole_ story of what had happened afterward.

* * *

Anna smiled with inner satisfaction as she finally opened her eyes. It sounded like it was all unfolding exactly as she had hoped (and planned). No one knew who - if anyone - they could trust. And when she'd told Steve to look at 'the one he trusted most', it had been her biggest lie of all...


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Slow, _finally_ (after too long of a wait), Steve opened his eyes. At first, he found himself ALONE and his reaction was much the same as Hansen's: he barely blinked because the disbelief (and _revulsion_) at what he'd done was almost too much to bear. Was Jaime alright? He had stuck her solely by accident...hadn't he? Then again, the other _pawns_ hadn't known they were victims until it was far too late.

Of course, the ER nurses spotting his changed condition almost immediately, thanks to the remote monitors - and someone was with him within minutes, assuring him that his wife would be alright. The key words for Steve, though, were _would be_. The last time he'd seen her face, Jaime had been limp and unconscious in his arms when he sank to the ground trying to protect her until the last moment as he felt himself blacking out. She had regained consciousness (according to the nurse) but would Jaime forgive him for whatever he had done to her? Could he even _begin_ to forgive himself?

* * *

Mark was nearly beside himself with worry - but for his _patients_, not for his own situation. He'd suggested Irene Cohen as the best Clayton Memorial had to offer but only because his own man probably wouldn't be able to arrive until morning. If they were lucky, he thought, maybe Jaime would forge a relationship with Irene by then and it might not be necessary to send in another therapist (albeit one of Mark's own staff) to bring yet another change and upheaval into Jaime's already fragile state of being. He had no idea just how badly it was going...

* * *

''Don't wanna talk...to _either_ of you...'' Jaime insisted through quiet tears. ''Don't...have to! I want _Mark_! If you wanna help me...bring him back. Can you...or _will_ you do that? And...and I wanna see..Steve! I have a right...'' (Her speech began breaking up badly again.) ''A right to see..._my husband_! You can't...keep him...from me!''

Oscar was probably the only one in her circle who could - and _would_ influence that decision. He intended to do so, allowing Jaime (and Steve) verbal updates only while Steve was still a patient, in hopes of getting both of them to release whatever Intel they might be holding. After they'd both been released, he doubted even he could keep them apart though...

* * *

''_Jaime_...'' was the first word out of Steve's mouth. (The nurse had guessed correctly from the look on his face what - or who - had been on his mind.) But plenty more words followed soon after. He may have been unconscious far longer than his wife, but he had no head injury to hamper his efforts at communication...and _communicate_, he did!

''You can't keep me from her! Even if she _thinks_ she doesn't want to see me...because that means she _**needs**_ me even more! ''If you can't bring her in here, then you need to take me to her. NOW.''

While Steve was (privately) worried in his own mind and needed to know whether Jaime would now spot him as having 'Kingsley Eyes', the nurse knew from what the OSI Director had told her that they had to be kept apart for now. It seemed cruel, she thought, but Oscar Goldman knew the patients far, _far_ better than she did. In fact, she had only laid eyes on both of them when they'd been admitted a few hours earlier. Clayton Memorial was NOT OSI-affiliated...but their boss held a lot of weight wherever he found himself - and he wasn't afraid to use it. For the next few days, the Austins would not be allowed to see each other, whether their new medical attendants agreed with that or not.

* * *

Oscar paced the hallway outside Jaime's ER cubicle while Dr. Cohen attempted to calm her down. He'd let his team take Mark to a private cell at OSI-Los Angeles (instead of the NSB's Hole) but he had chosen - for now - not to accompany them there. He'd hoped it would give Mark some time to think it all through..and maybe waiting would give him the time he needed to get Intel from the Austins - especially from the one who no longer worked for him, who would be the most difficult of all!

''_**NO**_**!**'' he heard Jaime shout _again_, even in response to whatever the therapist had said much more quietly.

''Whatever is troubling you, you obviously need to get it out,'' Cohen told her in a calm, firm 'therapist' voice.

''I said...go 'way! Not...kidding!''

''What did Doctor Conrad say to you, right before he gave you that first shot? Do you know?''

''Of course...I do! Not...feeble!''

''Now, I never said I thought you were feeble. It could be perfectly normal for you not to remember...but now I have to ask. Do _you_ think you're feeble?''

''Go. To. Hell. I wanna...see Steve! And Mark. You..._**Get. Out!''**_

- - - - -


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

''No; absolutely not!'' Oscar said as he stepped back into the room - and the argument.

''Not talking to..._you_...either!'' Jaime said with a bristle. ''Out - and get...Mark!''

''I can't do that,'' Oscar reminded her. ''He's in formal custody and -''

''Don't care! I..._need him_. You want me to...talk? Well, I'll talk...to him. NOT...to either of you! Get. Out!''

''Jaime,'' Dr. Cohen interjected, ''that's not a healthy attitude.''

''Get. Out. Get...out! GET OUT!''

- - -

Steve didn't care of he _ever_ saw Mark Conrad again - except maybe to tell him off for what he'd done! _Oscar had the right idea about him_, Steve thought. _I certainly don't need him - and I __**have**__ to keep him away from Jaime_! In his mind, Mark was the one who was solely responsible for what had happened - for ALL of it. _I might be able to 'interrogate' him_, Steve thought to himself. ''_And when I do, I'm going to let him have it with both barrels_!''

- - -

Oscar left Jaime's cubicle quietly, shaking his head at her behavior; her choice of whom to trust was totally bewildering to him. It was time for Oscar to talk to him, now that Mark had a good 12 hours to think the situation over (and to 'stew in his own juices'). He couldn't in good conscience send the therapist back to see Jaime...could he? _Besides, she has Irene Cohen now - and she'll learn to adjust to the change...won't she_?

* * *

Mark had indeed been thinking through. He'd been up the entire night without even the slightest doze, and he'd come to some firm conclusions. When Oscar finally came to see him, he made what he thought were reasonable - and URGENT - requests.

''I'd like to speak with Jaime,'' he told the OSI Director. ''She's comfortable with me because she _knows_ me, and -''

Oscar's response was to raise his eyebrows in silent (and accusatory) disbelief. ''I _should_ talk to Steve too, although I doubt he wants to see me,'' Mark continued.

''You know I can't allow you to have patient access now,'' Oscar said (wondering in his own mind if he actually _should_).

''And - hear me out on this before you say no. I think you should send me in to see Anja.''

''_Absolutely not_!'' Oscar said firmly.

''Just listen to me. Please. If anyone can resist her verbal machinations, it would be me. I'm willing to take the risk -''

''Well, I'm _not_.'' Although Oscar was letting the idea sink in, he wasn't ready to allow it...but he filed it away for future use. Anna _could_ have already gotten to the therapist (even without his knowledge) and that was the premise he was in custody for. The light (or rather, the _darkness_) of suspicion was shining straight at him and would be thoroughly investigated for any and all possible charges.

* * *

The other therapist, the one from Mark's own facility, had now arrived at Clayton and was familiarizing himself with Jaime's case...but Irene didn't think it was a good idea to bring in yet _another_ new person - and it might be the best therapy of all for Jaime to learn to adjust to _her_, someone she clearly didn't mesh with. Oscar had said the same thing, right before he left; he wanted Irene to stay on, at least for now. And Oscar's word was the one that carried weight. The other therapist could remain there for the day but would be slotted to see Jaime only much later, if Irene still couldn't reach her.

Irene had been at it for several hours...and was getting nowhere. After her pronouncement that she wouldn't talk to her, Jaime had turned her face to the wall. Huge, silent tears were streaming down her face but she stubbornly kept to her word.

''I'm not giving up on you,'' 'Elmira' insisted. (Jaime couldn't see anyone else but Elmira Gultch when Irene spoke to her. She not only had Elmira's look going on with her hair and her scowl; Irene's words were as harsh and abrupt as her Oz counterpart.) ''You need to work on socialization now, on dealing with people you might not want to deal with. Yes, I am well aware by now that you don't like me. That's the precise reason I need to stay.''

There was absolutely no response from her recalcitrant patient...

* * *

''Maybe a visit to Anna could be arranged,'' Oscar acknowledged after an hour of back-and-forth, ''but Jaime and Steve...they're out of question for you.'' (Were they..._really_? Oscar wondered. But outwardly he remained very firm.) ''You can have _no_ contact with the patients while you're under suspicion of harming them.''

''_I harmed __**no one**_!''

''Maybe you only think that; the others that Anna used didn't know it until well after the fact, when we caught it and told them about it. We still need to figure out what happened with you. Why don't you start by telling me what you did to Jaime.''

''I don't appreciate your phrasing,'' Mark shot back. ''It's not what I did _**to**_ her; it's what I did _**for**_ her!''

''I'll have to be the judge of that - until we take you to see the real judge, that is.'' _But maybe - __**just maybe**_, Oscar was thinking, _Mark could be the the only one who could break through Anna's scheming and __**end**__ this, once and for all_...

- - - - -


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It was the only way he _might_ get to see the patient who so desperately needed him. ''Alright,'' Mark conceded, ''I'll tell you anything you need to know about what I did _for_ Jaime. And obviously, that can go back several years, since I came here after she was a prisoner in that attic. She was as much a victim then as she is right now.''

''So you do admit you've victimized her?'' Oscar probed.

''No. Please don't twist my words around. You're wasting your time _and_ mine by doing that since it doesn't work with me. What it _does_ accomplish is to annoy the hell out of me. Instead,'' Mark suggested (trying to remain calm), ''let's go straight to what you _really_ need to know and what should exonerate me - analyzing yesterday's 'incident', from start to finish.''

''I'm listening.''

''When I brought Jaime home from the weight room, she was doing fine - the best she's felt in a long time. But when she came into the kitchen at exactly the wrong time, she overheard Steve's name and then a gunshot - and she _fainted_. The stress was too much. When I helped her into bed, yes, I sedated her. And no, she didn't want it -''

''So you drugged her against her will,'' Oscar interjected.

''Yes..._no!_'' Mark argued (with himself as well as with Oscar). ''She said she didn't want it but medically and emotionally - which is _my job_ to judge, by the way - she _needed_ it! I felt she couldn't handle anymore stress. And God forbid, she could have even thrown a clot!''

''Wouldn't that be something for Michael or Rudy to decide?''

''They weren't there!''

Oscar shook his head. ''Did you consult with either one of them before you drugged her? No; I already know that you didn't,'' Oscar told him. ''And then you had the 'good sense' to bring her down to National when she could barely stand up!''

''That was at _your_ request!''

''If she was in as bad a shape as you claim, you should've refused.''

''Dammit; I _tried_ to! But you insisted and God knows your word is law!''

* * *

Jaime was still doing some powerful insisting of her own. With her stony silence as she gazed stubbornly at the wall, 'Elmira' was getting absolutely nowhere. When she did finally deign to actually speak to the one she considered an interloper, the situation only got worse.

''You're clearly miserable,'' Cohen noted. ''If you don't talk about it, you'll be _choosing_ to stay as unhappy and frightened - yes, I know you're frightened - as you are right now.''

''Then...get..._Mark_!''

''You know that isn't possible. Doctor Conrad is -''

Jaime wasn't listening. ''And take me...to see..._my husband_. NOW.''

Privately, if it was her own choice to make, Irene would have honored that request - but she'd been overruled by probably the only person who could contradict even Jaime and Steve's doctors and get away with it...

* * *

''Why did you take that shot with the tranquilizer gun,'' Oscar thundered, ''when Steve was already in motion and you risked hitting Jaime? Another dose would have probably _killed_ her!''

''And who put that gun in my hand in the first place?'' Mark fired back angrily. ''_You_ had already overruled me when I wanted to keep Jaime at home and then _you_ gave me that gun with the understanding - and the _expectation_ that I would use it!''

* * *

Rudy woke from a good, solid night's sleep with his patients (his 'kids') still the only thing on his mind. How had things gone so wrong for them? For a few horrifying hours, both of their lives had hung in the balance without anything he could do for them. Everyone had wronged them - Mark, Oscar and even _Michael_. Michael should never have gone storming into that building (however carefully), when Steve had specifically asked to see all four of them. And _Steve_...how had the needle gone from Jaime's hands into his? From what Steve had transmitted (_What did you people do to my wife? I can't talk to her when she's unconscious_), Jaime had already been in a visibly rough state. Why would her own husband have taken the risk of wresting that needle away from her when the outcome was both foreseeable and _devastating_?

In truth, Rudy also blamed himself. He couldn't help it; by not stepping in, he'd allowed it all to happen...hadn't he?

* * *

Steve's own guilt was crushing him. Why wouldn't they let him see Jaime? Was it at _her_ request? Maybe she didn't _want_ to see him! The thought ate cruelly at him...and broke his heart. WHY had he dragged her into the middle of a firestorm - and WHY hadn't he made his own escape without trying to take her with him? The doctors could've helped her if he'd only left her behind. He wasn't even being given any details about her condition other than she was 'awake and talking' and would be released in about 24 hours. Would she come to see him then - or after the way he'd acted and what he'd caused to happen to her, what if Jaime never wanted to see him again?

- - - - -


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

''_You can't...keep me from...__**my husband**_!'' Jaime shouted. Her words may have been breaking up but the force and determination behind them was strong...and stubborn.

The two guards outside Steve's door saw it differently. They had their orders and while Jaime might have been able to convince her own two guards that she was walking to the nurses' station and back for exercise (she could still pour on the charm and innocence when she needed to), Steve's guards were not so easily snowed. ''I'm sorry, Mrs. Austin,'' the larger, burlier one said, stepping directly into the doorway and blocking her way (as well as her view). ''I can't let you do that.''

''Oscar...he did this...didn't he?'' Jaime demanded.

''You will be escorted back to your room if you don't go voluntarily.''

''Let her in! I'll face 'the wrath of Oscar'; you can blame it on me. Just let her in!'' From inside the room, Steve would have jumped from the bed and given the guard a bionic 'escort' to the moon if he could've, just to see Jaime...but he was still too weak, only partially recovered from his own ordeal and they'd have had to pick him up off the floor. Then again...

Steve swung his legs over the side of the bed and began walking toward the door, swaying more with each and every step...until he felt himself going down and instead of grabbing the chair and sinking into it, when his legs wobbled (and his head spun) too much for him to remain upright, he let himself hit the floor. The guard turned and on reflex stepped inside to help his fallen charge...allowing Jaime to rush in.

''I'm sorry -'' Steve managed to get out just before a groan escaped his lips. ''Didn't mean to hurt you.''

Jaime brushed a hand tenderly across her husband's cheek. ''Steve, I...I _love_ you...'' was all she could say before her own guards appeared. They each took her by one of her arms and gently pulled/carried her all the way back to her own room...where Elmira Gultch was waiting for her. Jaime's eyes glared with rage...and glistened with tears. ''You'll wanna...call Oscar and tell him...I committed...a Federal offense...'' Jaime cried bitterly, waving the guards away and getting into the bed herself because she really had no other choice. ''God forbid...I get to see Steve...for even five or ten minutes! That...that's the crime!''

''You weren't supposed to leave that bed until your release tomorrow morning,'' the therapist reminded her.

''So lock me up...throw the key away...damn! I...I don't even...work for..._**him**_! He can't do this...to me! Don't hafta...listen...to him! Not...my boss!''

''And look where not listening got you. You endangered your own health - and Steve's. Things would go much more smoothly for you if you'd just learn to -''

''To go with...the program?'' Jaime could barely speak and yet she had plenty to say! ''I'm not...a gov...government..._robot_! Don't work for...Oscar...and never will! Won't take orders from...someone with...a _God-Complex_!''

* * *

''You're not God, Oscar!'' Mark stormed. He was already in custody; what more could they do to him? He was going to speak his mind! ''You're playing with people's lives here, in keeping Jaime and Steve apart - and you're twisting the facts about me to suit the made-up scenario in your head! If the pieces don't fit, you need to work the puzzle differently, not jam it all together and force it into the picture you're expecting to see! You are _not_ the Be-All and End-All, no matter how much you think you are or how much you want to be!''

''Are you _trying_ to get thrown in The Hole?'' Oscar threatened. ''You're very, very close to overstepping your bounds, _Doctor_!''

''You want to make the pieces fit?'' Mark went on, unfazed by Oscar's words. ''Let me help you.''

''You're not in a position to help anyone right now.''

''You're wrong. Again,'' Mark argued.

''And you're dangerously close to something you'll never work your way out of.''

''If you want this all to make sense, if you want the madness to finally END, you need to let me tend to my patients so we can get to the bottom of whatever happened! Maybe Steve had something to do with this; the way he ran, anything is possible - but I'm probably the only one who can get them _both_ to give me the information you're looking for. The complete picture - and it's one that I know would clear me, as well. Don't I have the right to my own defense?''

''You're not under arrest; right now you don't need - or get - a defense. We investigate and you wait. Then a judge decides.''

''But that's after _you_ decide, right?'' Mark said bitterly. ''Shed that damn bureaucratic skin for two seconds, Oscar and just try to look at this from one human being to another. You have two other human hearts that you're _breaking_ - on purpose - with your actions. Don't you see that? Yes, I understand '_For the good of the country_' and '_In the interest of public safety_'...but what about what's best for two people who not only work for you -''

''Jaime doesn't work for me and you'd better -''

''Two people who are not only under your command, then - but that you also profess are your friends. Or they _used to_ be your friends! Where did your heart go, Oscar? Are you so blinded by your own importance that you've stopped caring about your _people_? Let me see Steve and Jaime and we'll work this all out in a way that's best for everyone. If you still think I'm guilty after that, well then I guess I'll have to deal with it. But at least give what I've said some thought! Please!''

''Okay,'' Oscar said, very quietly.

''Okay...what?''

''Alright. You can talk to Jaime, but I'll need to be in the room. You won't be alone with her at any time. And you'll be returning here when we're done.''

''I understand; thank you. And Oscar? I'd really like to end this for everyone. I think I should go and see Anna.''

- - - - -


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Michael woke with the sudden jolt of realization that he hadn't been dreaming; a building had really come down with him in it! For a split second it had felt like the end of the world when he was blinded by the swirl of debris and the floor beneath him gave way. It was the same '_whooosh_' sensation one would get on the hill of a roller coaster times about a hundred...or a thousand. The bottom truly dropped out and the walls closed in - not as a figure of speech either, but in the truest sense of the words. He'd hit ground level sideways as the house of cards that had once been National Medical Center toppled, with one arm beneath him..._His arm! His __**hand**_! Were they broken? For the first few awful minutes after he opened his eyes, Michael couldn't move them...or even feel them! (What if Jaime needed more surgery? They _couldn't_ be broken!) He looked at the limb, trying to take stock of his own injury and while it wasn't in a cast, the entire arm from shoulder to wrist had been immobilized. As he looked himself over, suddenly he could feel again - and it was agonizing. With his other hand, he hit the call button.

In response to his questions, the attending physician told Michael that he'd suffered a dislocated shoulder (that had been re-set). ''There were no fractures -''

''Thank God,'' Michael interjected.

''But you've suffered a severe bone bruise. I'm sure you know the drill better than I do. Immobilization, anti-inflammatories, rest...and it could be weeks or even months -''

''Was there a woman brought in from the building collapse?'' Michael asked quickly, his thoughts already on his patient rather than himself. If Jaime had been struck in the head by falling debris, the result could be devastating!

''Yes; your patient is here. She wasn't injured in the collapse though. Possible overdose.''

''I need you to discharge me,'' Michael requested, ''so I can get in there and start treating her. She needs me.'' (He would check out Against Medical Advice if necessary, but going through the proper channels was always preferable.)

The attending physician nodded. If Michael had been a 'normal' patient, he might've been kept another day or possibly longer before discharge - but his reputation as an expert in his field was weighty enough that his request could be honored. ''I'll get the paperwork going right away,'' the doctor told him.

While he waited, Michael laid back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling as he tried to figure out what had happened. He'd seen Mark - with the tranquilizer gun drawn and primed, ready to fire - make a sudden charge down the hall so quickly that he'd nearly lost sight of him. Michael never saw Steve or Jaime, never heard them either - but he knew they were still there because he heard Mark yell for Steve to stop, to put Jaime down and leave her there. Then there had been SO many sounds simultaneously that he could barely sort them out. A window was broken...a shot was fired...and from somewhere deep inside the building, Michael was sure he'd heard one more sound...a _**bomb**_.

* * *

After she'd given her patient some time to collect herself and nap off more of the effects of her overdose (and overwrought exhaustion), Irene Cohen returned. The only warning was a steady, hostile glare - and then the therapist barely had time to duck to avoid the dinner tray flung in her direction. ''Now that wasn't wise,'' she told Jaime, stepping over the strewn food and tableware and shaking her head. ''Are you auditioning for a 72 hour psych hold?''

''Leave. Me. Alone!''

''I can have you sent upstairs right now with the propensity to violence you've just shown me! Do you _want_ to be locked up?''

''Irene, I'll take over from here,'' said a calm voice from the doorway.

''_Mark_!'' Jaime cried in relief. ''Please...help me!'' Then she saw Oscar standing just behind him, his dark eyes even more grim than Jaime was used to and his worry lines deepening into crevices. ''Noooo...'' she said softly, turning her face and then her whole body toward the wall.

Irene looked questioningly at the two men. ''I'm not 'back','' Mark tried to explain as they stepped aside to indicate that Irene should leave. ''We'll keep you posted.'' He followed her several steps into the hallway and whispered the rest of his 'instructions'. ''But you'll be 'locking up' my patient over my dead body,'' he snarled, very softly. ''It isn't going to happen. At all. _Ever_.''

Irene pulled away from him, turned on her heels and stalked off down the hall while Mark returned to the room. He stopped at the foot of Jaime's bed and had to take a moment to collect himself. What had happened to her in the less than 24 hours since she'd been admitted? Jaime's gaze was wild, unfocused and _not there_, as if she were watching some unseen horror unfolding. Her face was puffy and tear-stained and at some point she'd cried hard enough to make both of her eyes look blackened but the sobs that wracked her whole body now were tearless. Although she'd spoken to Mark (and glared stonily at Oscar) just moments before, suddenly she didn't seem to even know they were there...because in her mind _she wasn't there_. Mark knew all too well what these signals meant - and it broke his heart to see she'd taken such a drastic backslide in less than a single day.

He didn't dare approach her; not yet. Instead, he turned to Oscar. ''Send someone for ice, _fast_'' he ordered, taking charge even though he was the one being supervised. ''And lemons.''

- - - - -


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Jaime bit down hard on the lemon wedge and then held it between her teeth as she closed her eyes. She was still trembling visibly. Oscar had given Mark _very_ specific instructions and limitations on the drive to Clayton and one of his firmest edicts was that Mark could have absolutely no physical contact with Jaime. There could be no taking her hand or placing a comforting touch on her shoulder. Nothing. In spite of that, Mark's only concern was his patient - and she was in distress. He felt Oscar's eyes on him as he picked up an ice cube and held it gently to Jaime's cheek to orient her.

''Jaime, I need you to listen to my voice,'' he said softly. ''Focus on that. Not the sounds in the hallway or the ones you might be hearing in your head. Hear only _my_ voice -'' Mark moved his hand to her other cheek, caressing it with the ice cube. ''Just my voice; that's your reality. Orient to my voice -''

Slowly, Jaime's trembling began to ease but her eyes remained closed and her breathing was ragged and raspy. Mark picked up a second ice cube and moved that one to her temple, watching Jaime's reactions carefully as he used both hands to try and bring her back. Finally, Jaime opened her eyes and gazed directly into Mark's. ''That's right,'' he encouraged, ''now focus on my eyes. Let them tell you where you are and who you are. Orient -''

Suddenly, Oscar grabbed the therapist's arm and pulled him into the hallway. ''We need to talk,'' he said grimly.

''Oscar, what the _hell_?'' He tried to keep one eye on the OSI boss and the other on his patient who still _needed him_.

''I'm no expert,'' Oscar noted, ''but that looked and sounded a lot like hypnosis.''

''Well, in a way...it is,'' Mark admitted. ''Self-hypnosis is an effective tool in redirecting a person's focus back to reality - and I need to get back in there.'' He looked through the door and Jaime was lying quietly with the lemon wedge still in her mouth, but her head was beginning to loll back and forth on the pillow and she cowered as something especially disturbing must have passed through her mind's eye.

''So you use hypnosis as a 'tool', _Doctor_?'' Oscar still held Mark's arm and now moved to block his way back into the room.

''Well of course I do. You _know_ that. It's highly effective when used properly...and I need to do that right now! I almost had her 'out'.''

''How many people have you used this special 'tool' of yours on?'' Oscar queried.

Mark finally wrenched his arm away but stopped himself from pushing past the OSI Director. Calm, careful reasoning would work better than brute force, if he could manage it. ''It's helped Russ, Rudy, Michael, both Steve _and_ Jaime - and you've used the techniques yourself,'' Mark reminded him. From behind Oscar, still in her bed, Jaime let out a soft moan. ''You brought me here for a specific job; I know that. But if I don't pull Jaime out of this flashback first -''

''I can't let you go back in there,'' Oscar insisted.

''The Oscar Goldman who interviewed me back in DC, the one who listened to my theories and my proposed techniques and then hired me on the spot...is he still anywhere in there?'' Mark shot back quietly. ''Or the Oscar who had me flown out here to help Jaime and Steve because he knew what I could do...any of him left inside you? The Oscar I know, the one I work for proudly, has a heart and wouldn't want Jaime to suffer one more second in there. _Please, Oscar!_''

''What's going on here?'' Michael demanded, rounding the corner and finding the two men facing each other down just outside of his patient's room. His left arm was in a sling but he wore a lab coat (rather than a patient's gown) and pulled himself up to his full height, stepping between Mark and Oscar to look in Jaime's door.

''She needs help, Michael,'' Mark told him quietly. ''Apparently, my brand of help isn't welcome here anymore.''

''That's still to be determined,'' Oscar put it.

''Then determine it. Investigate, question, background-check and do your worst,'' Mark continued. ''But for now, you need to let us through that door!''

Oscar looked from Mark to Michael and back again...and then stepped aside. The two doctors hurried to their patient, who gazed at them both with clear, calm eyes. The lemon and her own determination had been enough. Jaime was 'back'.

''I wanna...go home...'' she announced very quietly but with the 'set' to her jaw that said she meant business. ''Now...please.''

''First thing tomorrow morning,'' Michael promised her. Jaime's vital signs were strong and steady; whatever had happened in this room was over.

''Tonight...now! This place...it's...bad for my health!''

''Jaime,'' Mark began, pulling up a chair, ''you just did a wonderful job in fighting your way through that - and I am so proud of you. I think you'll have to settle for tomorrow though. You'll have so much more energy to play with Becca once you've had a good night's sleep.''

''Don't...like it here! And...I don't...I don't like...that _woman_!''

''We'll find you a different therapist,'' Michael told her. ''Someone who you can feel comfortable with, and -''

''No. Don't want...another!'' Jaime insisted. She turned her head to glare at Oscar, who was still standing just inside the doorway, watching and listening. ''_You_...'' she told him. ''You leave...Mark here. He helps me...and you...need to go!''

Michael quickly assessed the situation without needing to ask any questions. He sidled over to where Oscar stood and motioned him into the hallway. ''If you want Mark to talk to her - and I'm assuming it's to get information - then maybe you should go.''

Oscar raised an eyebrow. ''Excuse me? He's still in my custody - and here under my good graces.''

''If you feel he shouldn't be alone with a patient right now, then I'll stay here while they talk. But with her brain injury, Jaime can be even more headstrong than she normally was. You're not going to get Word One from her; not now. Mark can handle working with her - I have confidence in him - and I can stay and help them both work around the limitations of her injury. I'll keep an eye on Mark for you too,'' Michael added quickly.

Oscar opened his mouth to argue...but then nodded. ''I need to know what happened in that room at National between her and Steve - both times she went up there. Try and find out about the boxes he sent down with her, specifically anything she saw him do with them and what he might have told her. And Mark is to have NO physical contact of any kind; he knows that. If he oversteps his bounds or is unusual in _any_ way -''

''I'll make a note of it,'' Michael promised. He turned back into Jaime's room and closed the door.

- - - - -


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Oscar stared for a moment at the door that had shut very nearly in his face. He was used to doors opening because of who he was, because of his decades of experience, his title and his stature. Instead, this door had closed _because of who he was_, excluding him. Oscar allowed himself only a moment to ponder that before revving back into maximum efficiency mode. He started by calling out to the various arms of his agency for their most current reports via his datacom (with the help of an earpiece for privacy). If he'd asked, he could've made use of an actual phone in an office or an empty patient room but Mark Conrad was in his personal custody until the moment he was returned to his cell and Oscar took every one of his responsibilities seriously, including this one. Although he knew Jaime might not agree with him (or more precisely, with his methods), he took the responsibilities of this case even more seriously. He cared deeply for the woman who was lying in the bed on the other side of that door, even as she was probably cursing his name to the two doctors.

In this investigation, every 't' had to be crossed, every 'i' dotted, every blank filled in with an irrefutable _fact_. A government facility had been destroyed, and the entire Intelligence community had nearly been brought to its knees. On a more personal level, a prominent OSI doctor with a stellar future had been _murdered_ in a plane crash that could have taken the lives of a dozen people. Steve and Jaime had both been on board...and so had _Becca_. Oscar was in the position he held because he could make the tough decisions quickly. He would follow this case wherever the leads took him and do whatever he had to, to _end it_ with justice. Anyone who'd been responsible for what had happened - from the drill in the attic that seemed so long ago, to Jaime and Steve lying in beds at separate ends of the same hospital now - would pay dearly. The tough part would be in sorting out the 'responsible' hands from those who'd been used basically as tools of destruction (like Russ, Michael, Rudy...and himself). If he had to step on toes and wound feelings to do it, he would get justice for Steve and Jaime - and for all of them.

* * *

''There's a lot to talk about,'' Jaime acknowledged. ''But I'm warning you, if you send for that Elmira Glutch woman, on her broomstick, I'm not sayin' a word.''

''Send for who?'' Mark puzzled. Then he got it - and didn't try to hide his smile. ''She doesn't have anything to do with why we're here today.''

''Are you...free?''

''No.''

''He can't...do that...can he?'' Neither man answered her - and Jaime hung her head. ''Of course...he can.''

Mark gave it to her straight, as always. ''Jaime, I sent for another therapist for you - one of my own staff - but I can't guarantee you'll never have to deal with Doctor Cohen again. Oscar is just following the facts as he sees them and hopefully this will all be over soon.''

''And...he wants to...to talk to...me?''

Both doctors noticed that as she thought about talking to Oscar, Jaime's face paled and her speech pattern fragmented. They would have to tread very carefully. ''You're in a very unique position, Jaime,'' Mark began to explain. ''You're the only one who was present for almost, well - for everything that happened. You really have no choice; you have to talk to Oscar. It'll be easier to see him here, where Michael and I can be with you, instead of across a table in a conference room with attorneys present.''

''Oh, I _wanna_ talk to him!'' Jaime said brightly.

Both doctors were slightly taken aback. ''You have the strangest way of showing that,'' Michael noted.

''Michael, you and I...we talked about this. Talked with Mark about it too. I still...I might have trouble walking...and sometimes my brain fires off...words...and they get lost and never make it...outta my mouth. But me - what's inside of me...that makes me _Jaime_ - I'm still in here. I might...maybe I look feeble on the outside...but on the inside...I'm still here...and I'm still me. And 'me'...well...I've always been _smart_. So yeah...I have something that he...that _Oscar_ needs. And there are...a few things he can do...for me...in exchange.''

''It really doesn't work that way,'' Mark told her (smiling inwardly nonetheless, at her courage).

''What I want...is I want him...to let you go.''

''Which he will, as soon as he finishes investigating and moves on to his next theory,'' (_I hope_).

''And I wanna...I _need_...to see Steve. I know he's in a lot of trouble...or...or he wouldn't have tried to keep everyone away. Steve would never...he wouldn't do those things without a reason. And I'm his wife! I need...to see him!''

''I'll talk to Oscar,'' Mark agreed. ''I won't make you a promise because you know I'm always straight with you and I can't tell you for certain what Oscar might say, but perhaps after you've given him some answers, we can wheel you down to see Steve.''

''Will he get to come home...when he's well again?'' Jaime wondered.

''Let's hope so.''

''Mark? What do I...or what should I...tell Oscar...about what happened?''

''You need to tell him the truth,'' Mark insisted firmly. ''From when I brought you home from the weight room to coming down to National Medical, and everything that happened between you and Steve. Tell him all of it; don't try to 'cover' for either one of us. I'll likely have to leave the room while he asks you about me, but Michael will stay. And then I'll come back to support you through the rest of it...but you need to tell him _everything_.''

''Everything he asks...anyway.''

''And anything else you saw or heard that you feel might be even slightly important,'' Mark concluded. ''Can you do that?''

Jaime nodded. Mark leaned in a little closer, about to tread into dangerous territory for her. Thankfully, the ice bucket was still nearby, if needed. He would be bringing up one of her worst triggers, but it had suddenly become urgent. ''Before we go and get Oscar for you, I need to ask you a serious question. Do you remember telling me that you could spot people who were under Anna's - or the Kingleys' - influence by their eyes?''

''They all had...'Kingsley Eyes,'' Jaime agreed. It was the stuff of her very worst nightmares - and of the flashbacks that used to plague her nearly every day but had gradually almost faded...for the most part. It was the gleam in The Drill Man's eyes as he'd leered over her, the same look he'd had at the old theme park when he'd tortured and tried to kill her. Michael had the same glitter of unbridled _evil_ in his eyes at the cabin when he'd attacked her...and Jaime's recognition that Oscar had 'Kingsley Eyes' when he'd offered to take Becca back to the nursery had saved the baby from whatever fate Anna had intended for her. ''Why did you...ask me that now?'' Jaime wondered.

''I want you to look closely at me,'' Mark told her. ''Do I have Kingsley Eyes?''

Jaime directly met his gaze. ''Nope.''

''What about Michael?'' Mark went on. Michael stepped closer to the bed so Jaime could look at him again.

''He doesn't have them either,'' she announced.

''Good. I need for you to be alert to anyone you come in direct contact with, until this is all settled. If you spot _those eyes_ on anyone - a doctor, nurse, attorney - anyone, I want you to tell a member of your team, someone you trust who is safe for you. Understand?'' Mark instructed. Jaime nodded. ''That also goes for Steve. When you see him, think of it as Jaime's Eye Test and just take a look. Oscar needs an eye test too.''

''Okay. I...I can...do this.''

''One thing that might help you,'' Michael suggested, ''is when you feel yourself starting to get upset, take a nice deep breath _before_ you speak. I know it upsets you when you can't get the words out the way you'd like and a deep breath or two will give your brain time to 'connect the dots', so to speak.''

''My brain is dotty,'' Jaime giggled. ''I like that. And Mark? Michael? Thank you.''

Just outside the door to Jaime's room, a messenger had hand-delivered a long yellow envelope to Oscar - the one he'd been expecting. He opened it up and scanned the single sheet inside, from top to bottom, then folded it neatly and stuck it in the inner pocket of his suit coat.

- - - - -


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Two men went out into the hallway and (after a hurried conference where Jaime's requests were sorted through), three men returned to her bedside. They found her sitting up in her bed with her street clothes on.

''Did someone help you?'' Michael asked pointedly.

Jaime took a deep breath...and smiled. ''Nope. I'm fully...um...capable of putting my clothes on, all by myself. This is important, and I'm not gonna do it in a gown and robe.''

''Capable, yes,'' Michael agreed, ''but that doesn't mean you should be out of bed, on your feet and getting dressed - and everything that entails - with nobody to help you. You could've lost your balance, gotten dizzy or -''

''I'm fine. Oscar, I'm ready. And...I can see Steve when we're done?''

Mark stepped up to the bed. ''I have to leave for the first part of this conversation, just like I'd told you I might. But when you're completely done - and I don't want you to rush through and miss any details - we'll take you to Steve. Tell Oscar anything he wants to know and tell him _all_ of it -''

''Don't coach her,'' Oscar requested, pulling up a chair. He looked at Jaime and was almost startled by the way she seemed to be staring directly into his eyes. Jaime smiled at Mark and the therapist took his leave. Michael remained watchfully seated near the foot of Jaime's bed.

Jaime answered every one of Oscar's initial questions with no hesitation other than a deep breath before she started to speak. She related how Mark had dropped her off at home and intended to leave but had been summoned inside by an urgent note from Jess (the nurse).

''Did you see the note? What did it say?'' Oscar queried.

''I never saw it.''

She told Oscar how she'd been sent to the nursery with Becca so she couldn't hear or see what went on in the kitchen. It had only been after the nurses' shift change, when Becca grew restless and hungry, that Jaime had peeked her head into the other room at exactly the wrong (or possibly the _right_) time.

''Mark had the radio...um...datacom in one hand and the phone in the other. I heard Steve's voice - and yours, Oscar - and then...I heard a shot.''

''What happened next?''

''I...I'm not sure...''

''Deep breath, Jaime,'' Michael said quietly.

Jaime did as instructed and then waited for Oscar's next question. He was starting to get on her nerves and she'd decided to herself that while she'd tell him the complete truth in response to his questions, she wasn't about to offer up anything - _anything_ - on her own.

''You were given a sedative there at the house, correct?'' Oscar went on.

''Yes.''

''Who gave it to you?''

''Well, I didn't inject myself! Mark...he gave it to me, of course.''

''Had you asked for one? Why was it administered?'' Because the nurses had been employees at National, they were also OSI-affiliated and Oscar had spoken with both Jess and Nancy. What Nancy had related was especially alarming - and now Oscar wanted to hear about it from Jaime's own lips.

''Why? Because I...I guess I...fainted. They were helping me into bed and...''

''And? What did you say to them, Jaime - specifically to Mark?''

''Sounds like you already know the answer,'' Jaime said sullenly. ''And like you're already made up your mind.''

''What did you tell him?''

Jaime took several deep, steadying breaths and shot a pleading look at Michael. When he didn't intercede, she had no choice but to go on. ''I said...I...didn't want a needle.''

Oscar nodded. ''And what happened immediately after you told him that?''

''I got into bed. And...had the shot anyway,'' she concluded. (_I'm so sorry, Mark_! she said in her mind.)

'So you refused medication and even though you were of sound mind at the time and had every right to refuse, Mark Conrad injected you anyway?''

''Yes, but -''

''When your head was turned, so you wouldn't see what he was doing to you?'' Oscar probed.

''No! He...Mark _told_ me that I needed to have it anyway! Stop twisting things around when you weren't even there!''

''So you deny that you were looking the other way?''

''Maybe my head was turned. I...I was...climbing into bed, getting comfortable! But...but I knew...that he was gonna do it...because he _told_ me! He didn't...he's _never_ done anything behind my back!''

''Let's stick to the subject at hand at this moment. Nothing else, please. What's the next thing you remember?''

While Oscar might not have rode in on Elmira's broom and he didn't have 'Kingsley Eyes', Jaime decided that _at this moment_ - as Oscar himself had put it - she didn't like or trust him. Not at all. ''I was...Mark was...'' she was stumbling badly, so Jaime took another deep breath. ''Mark was helping me outside...into his car. He said...he told me...that Steve needed my help. Except...while we were driving down there, he wasn't talking to Steve. He...Mark...was talking to _you_.''

Jaime really couldn't relate most of what was said on the car ride to National because she'd been fading in and out from the strong sedative that'd been meant to keep her out for at least six hours. Mark had left her to doze in the passenger seat while (she assumed) he'd gotten out and spoken to the others. ''Michael was there,'' she remembered, looking at the young doctor who stood so quietly now at the foot of her bed. ''He checked on me and then...'' she looked directly at Oscar. ''Then you and Mark took me into the building...and Mark got me as far as...the stairwell. I walked a...for a little bit, but I didn't see Steve. I think I passed out...or fainted again. Then...I woke up on a bed - and Steve had...he had...''

''A gun?'' Oscar finished for her.

''No. He had..._a bag_.''

_Now they were getting somewhere_, Oscar thought. ''What did Steve say to you about the bag?''

Jaime thought hard, trying to fight her way through the fog she'd been in when she'd met with her husband in that burned-out building. ''He...Steve said he found them...that they might be evidence. And to take them to you...only to you.''

''What else did he say about the bag?''

''He said...if the penguins or police...were there...I should turn around and go back inside. But if you..if you were by yourself...to give you the bag. And to ask you to have it processed.'' Jaime thought even harder. ''He found one piece...by the lake...and the other was...it was in Jack's room.''

''He didn't ask you to tell me to look inside?'' Oscar probed.

''No! You...aren't you listening to me? I _told_ you what he said! To send it off...for processing!''

''Did he give you other instructions - or did he possibly tell you what he'd been planning to do next?''

''Steve said...to not give the bag to anyone but you. And that I should ask Mark...to take me home.''

''But you didn't do that - why?''

Jaime looked at Oscar like he was either crazy or feeble-minded. ''Because that was when the bag...blew up!''

''And instead of going home, you ran back into the building -''

''NO! I...he...'' Jaime fought back angry tears. This felt like an interrogation and she'd done nothing wrong. Steve hadn't either...had he?

- - - - -


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Jaime looked pleadingly at Michael to intercede...but for now, there could be no relief. Unless (or until) Oscar's questioning put her in actual physical danger, there was no choice but to allow it to continue.

''Steve...needed me!'' she sobbed. ''You - you're twisting things around!''

''Then tell me what really happened, please,'' Oscar pressed, leaning closer.

''I...I wanna see Steve now.''

''I'm afraid that's not possible, until we've finished. You could taint each other's statements.''

''Then I need Mark. Where...when...can he come back?''

''We still have things to discuss regarding his treatment techniques, as well. I could page Irene -''

''NO! I won't talk to her...and I don't have to! You said - you told me - that you wanted to talk about Steve. And...I will, since...I have no choice. But then _you get me Mark_! One thing...at a time!''

Michael turned away from Oscar to hide his smile of pride at hearing Jaime stick up for herself. ''She's right, Oscar,'' he agreed without turning around. ''Can't you question her about Mark another time and stick to one topic at a time? Jaime's doing her best to cooperate with you. How about letting her focus on one subject at a time instead of purposely confusing and sidetracking her? It's only fair.''

With a sigh and a silent, inward _harrrmph_, Oscar rose and opened the door, nodding for Mark to join them. The therapist moved quickly toward the bed, assessing his patient with practiced eyes before taking his habitual, silent seat in the corner.

''There was an explosion - from an article _you_ carried from the building and gave to me. What made you decide to go back inside?'' Oscar probed.

Jaime glared at him. ''I didn't...'run back'...inside. Mark...the one you accused...the one you seem to think...hurt me...he _stopped_ from going in! Why...you wanna know why I went in? It was because...YOU sent me! YOU got that needle and YOU made sure I knew how to use it!''

''You wanted to bring Steve out safely, didn't you? What did he tell you, once you were back inside? Did he admit to trying to kill me - and was that before or after he took you hostage?''

* * *

Steve woke from a peaceful dream about Jaime and Becca to see Russ standing beside his bed...and his sense of peace shattered. ''Are you here to arrest me?'' he grumbled resentfully.

''Should I be?'' Russ asked, slipping automatically and effortlessly into his former role. ''What is it you think you've done?''

''Sorry; not gonna work with me.''

''What's not going to work?'' Russ probed.

Steve shrugged...and winced in pain. ''Classic interrogation technique; I use it all the time.''

Russ smiled. His past role was so ingrained in him that he hadn't realized what he was doing. ''I'm sorry about that. I didn't come to interrogate you or even to take your statement. I'm here as a friend, to see if there's anything I can do to help.''

Steve was dubious. ''How can you help when I obviously broke the law? Hell, I broke at least a dozen laws,'' he added miserably.

''I know you,'' Russ told him. ''What they're saying you did, well, none of it would've happened without an awfully good reason. I can get the lawyers here faster for you...or maybe make some phone calls. Whatever you need.''

Steve nodded his gratitude and paused to think. ''I need to talk to Oscar, to try and explain, not that it'll help now. What happened with Anna - what I did - it scared me. I ran...and everything just snowballed from there. None of it was intentional but I don't know how to make it right except to try and talk to Oscar. Can you set up a meeting for me? Hopefully soon? And can you take me to see Jaime?''

Right now, Russ could do neither one...

* * *

Jaime reacted as though she'd been struck. ''Steve would never...and he didn't! I...I wasn't a hostage! I was there...to help my husband...and to help you!'' As her tears began anew, her voice broke and fragmented. ''I even...I can't believe I...stuck up...for you!''

Oscar was unmoved - and relentless. ''Then he found the needle and injected you? Why? Was he upset that you'd sided with me?''

''You just...don't get it! He...Steve never...tried to hurt me!''

''He could have killed you; do you realize that?''

''Stop it! Just...stop it! He...didn't...I...I can't...''

Michael stepped forward for a look at Jaime's monitors and was both alarmed and disappointed. The multiple surgeries she'd endured had carried the hope (and promise) that she might return to 'normal'. Oscar's questioning was rough, but the 'normal' Jaime should've easily been able to withstand it. Instead, her vitals and her frightened, tearful demeanor told Michael he needed to put a stop to the session for his patient's safety.

''She's had enough,'' Michael told Oscar firmly.

''We need to finish,'' Oscar insisted, glancing around Michael to study Jaime a bit more. She'd grown visibly frightened (and angry) at his questions. _What was she hiding_? Was she protecting Steve, Mark...or both?

''No; you're done now.'' Michael had stepped between Oscar and Jaime, his arms emphatically folded across his chest. ''Maybe you can try again later, but for now she needs a break.''

''I need..._Steve_...'' Jaime sobbed brokenly.

Oscar shook his head. ''I'm afraid I can't allow that. Not until you've both completely finished your statements.'' He turned to go, while Michael patted Jaime's shoulder soothingly and Mark approached the bed.

While Mark tended to their patient and Oscar paced the hallway waiting to finish what he saw as essential business, Michael returned to his lab. He hung all of Jaime's x-rays and MRIs in side-by-side lightboxes and studied them intently. She had not yet returned to anything approaching 'normal' - and he couldn't figure out why. Her speech was still broken and her body unable to tolerate even the smallest amount of stress. The needed nerve connections were obviously not being formed. Another round of surgery would not only be indescribably dangerous, it would also be like admitting failure - and for Michael, failure was unthinkable. The surgery was experimental but there was every reason to believe it would be successful. According to Jaime's x-rays, what he'd done HAD worked...and yet the miracle of normalcy still evaded her.

Michael went back over every test result, every MRI and each data entry in Jaime's file one more time. What was he not seeing? The printed results were exactly what he'd planned and hoped for. The sets of x-rays showed all of the expected physical progress...and yet his patient's behavior and outward visible results did not follow the charts or his expectations. Why? There HAD to be a way to send Jaime's brain waves in the needed direction, to help her nervous system make the final, crucial connections...to force her into the results the tests all indicated she should already be achieving. How to manipulate her brain waves and nervous system and FORCE those vital connections was the question before him. Then suddenly Michael's eyes snapped open with a new knowledge and realization.

Suddenly, he HAD it: an answer beyond anything he'd been searching for!

- - - - -


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Oscar paced the hallway in what passed for a Bionics Wing at Clayton Memorial, ostensibly waiting for another chance to question Jaime...but in truth he was questioning _himself_ instead. He had purposely reduced Jaime to tears, until her doctor had to put a stop to it! And Michael had stepped in at exactly the wrong time; another few minutes and Jaime likely would've thrown information at him, just to get him to stop.

Oscar sighed; sometimes he really hated being the 'bad guy' but it often came with the territory - and right now, like it or not, it was absolutely essential. Oscar needed to become a cold-blooded bureaucrat to save a long-time colleague (already in custody) and a dear friend who would be next to be locked up if Oscar didn't find a way to clear him...

He knocked on Steve's (open) door frame, knowing he'd be going in whether invited or not - but a warm, welcoming smile from the patient in the bed let Oscar know that his best operative was (at least at this point) still his friend.

''You know we have to talk,'' Oscar said by way of a preamble.

Steve nodded, his smile disappearing as his eyes filled with worry and trepidation. ''Am I under arrest?'' he queried.

''Not yet...''

* * *

Anna savored the thought of her own victory, even as she was transferred from the relative freedom of a hospital room back to the confines of The Hole. Even the pain in her shoulder served to remind her that she'd forced the great Colonel Steve Austin to lose his cool. She'd faced the worst he had to throw at her - and she'd _won_. From the horrified look he'd worn when his eyes met hers (just before he'd bolted), she'd found renewed satisfaction and a special thrill in knowing she'd put fear deep into his soul...

* * *

''Where did you tell me you'd found those little metal boxes?'' Oscar asked with a brusqueness to his words that carried the seriousness of the moment.

Steve's well-trained senses told him his very future lay in what might happen in the next few minutes and in how he chose to answer Oscar's questions. ''I _didn't_ tell you,'' he clarified slowly, with utmost care. ''I told _Jaime_.''

Oscar nodded; Jaime had already filled in this blank for him; would Steve's answer match his wife's? ''What did you tell her?'' he probed.

''I found one in the mud under a rock by the lake. From the size of it, I'm guessing it once held the component that brought the plane down,'' Steve answered.

''And did you open it?'' Oscar held his breath. _Please give the right answer, Pal_, he pleaded silently.

''Well...yeah. And it was empty.''

_Thank God_, Oscar breathed silently to himself. According to the report he held in his pocket, Steve's fingerprints (from his left hand, of course) had been found inside the intact dirt-covered box. His answer matched the evidence. Still, he had more questions. ''And the other box - where did you get it? Did you bring it with you when you ran?'' Oscar continued.

Steve shook his head. ''Of course not,'' he said adamantly. ''I found it in Hansen's old room, then grabbed a plastic bag from the nurses' station and put it inside - along with the first one - so Jaime could give them to you.''

''And you had no idea what was inside?'' _Please give the only answer that will let me exonerate you_, Oscar pleaded silently.

''The explosives?'' Steve clarified. ''No. I'd never have asked my wife to carry it - and certainly never sent it to you - if I'd had any idea. My only though was that you could have it dusted for prints! I'd never have knowingly placed Jaime - or you - in danger!''

''But you pointed a gun at me,'' Oscar reminded him.

''I was in a blind panic after what happened with Anna...and I wanted..._needed_...to get away until I could get myself thinking straight again.''

Oscar nodded. Steve's answers had fully matched the evidence. Relieved from the huge weight that was now lifted off his shoulders, he finally allowed himself to smile. ''Don't worry, Pal,'' he assured his newly-cleared friend. ''Anna can get to any of us and I'm nor pressing any charges.''

Steve smiled back (as relieved as his boss). ''When can I see Jaime?'' he asked.

''First, we need to talk about Mark Conrad,'' Oscar told him.

* * *

Back in Jaime's cubicle, Mark's calm attention had soothed her - and Jaime was preparing to go home. Mark and Michael, unsure of what Oscar was doing or what he might have planned, were preparing her to go home without (for now) the requested visit with her husband. Michael made a brief visit to clear Jaime medically then returned to his lab, leaving Jaime with Mark, who had pulled a chair up beside the bed and was holding her hand. Whether it was due to Oscar's questioning or her own train of thought, a few things were sinking in for Jaime...and the effect was devastating.

''Steve knew I was drugged...'' she said in a sad, slow voice, ''and it might have been an accident but he still stuck me with that needle! He...could've _killed_ me...''

Less than an hour later, with Michael by her side to help her (since Mark was still in custody), Jaime left Clayton Memorial without seeing or talking to her husband. She embraced her daughter with tears in her eyes and had just sat down for a light lunch with the nurse when Irene knocked at the door...

- - - - -


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The last person Jaime expected (or wanted) to see on her door step was 'Elmira Gultch'! _Where'd you park your broomstick?_ she thought to herself as she looked through the screen.

''Oscar Goldman and Doctor Conrad sent me to check on you,'' Irene explained.

Politeness forced Jaime to open the door. ''I'm okay,'' she insisted, grudgingly motioning the hated therapist into the living room. ''I'll be even better when Steve comes home.''

''That's what we need to talk about,'' Irene told her, taking a seat in the rocking chair. Jaime curled up in a corner of the sofa and Irene continued. ''I know you don't like me - and that's alright. It doesn't mean we can't work together, at least for now.''

In Jaime's mind, if Oscar had sent the woman it was one more strike against her. She had no choice but to obey the man but she resented the power he held over her family and certainly didn't trust his motives...or Irene's, for that matter. For now, she stared non-verbally at the interloper.

''Steve will be released from the hospital tonight,'' Irene told her. ''Mr. Goldman is not pressing any charges against him, so he's free to come home - if you have no objections, that is.''

''Objections? He's my husband!''

''Will you feel safe having him return home, after everything that's happened?''Irene queried. Jaime flinched. The woman had managed to hit a raw emotional nerve. Irene leaned closer. ''There IS a worry there, isn't there?''

''No!'' Jaime insisted. ''Well...not really. I mean, Steve would never hurt me - not on purpose. But...something happened to him...when he went to see Anna. It was almost like...he wasn't himself anymore...like she got to him somehow...

Irene had read her reluctant patient's chart completely - and Steve's too (at Oscar's request). She though mind control was the most ridiculous concept she'd ever heard of but another fact had jumped off the page for her and she had to bring it up. So his attitude toward you was different after he'd been to see his mistress?'' she probed.

Jaime was flabbergasted. ''What? No! Anna is not his mistress!''

Irene smiled sadly at what she saw as complete denial on Jaime's part. ''He slept with her, did he not?''

''Are you an _idiot_?'' Jaime exploded. ''This is my house! I don't have to listen to you. I don't have to talk to you...and you need to hop back onto your broomstick and go to...I don't care where you go...Just find the door. It's the same one...you came in from...and _use_ it!''

Jaime leaped from the sofa, turned her back to the therapist, then flounced into Becca's room and stayed there until she heard the front door open and close. Only then did Jaime emerge to finish lunch with the nurse. Everything seemed off-kilter and Irene's words had helped absolutely no one - but everything would be fine in a few more hours when Steve came home. Wouldn't it? Jaime hoped so, but which version of Steve would be returning home to her? Her husband (and Becca's doting father)...or the man who had threatened to take her hostage? Jaime didn't know what to expect...and barely even knew who to trust!

* * *

Michael supervised his patient's discharge closely, made the appropriate notes in her file, dutifully reported her progress to Oscar,then hurried to his lab to hunch over his latest discovery. If it worked - and he was positive that it would - Jaime would be able to avoid further surgery...but that was only the tip of the iceberg! He would be able to _**force**_ her brain waves in the proper, healthy direction and redeem himself in the eyes of the OSI! Michael began working feverishly, at a pace and with an intense focus he would carry on through the day and into the night, making sure everything was 'just so'. When he finished, he knew the results would be well worth it.

* * *

Mark glanced in the rearview mirror as Russ drove. When given a choice, Steve had climbed into the backseat where he coud be semi-alone with his thoughts. Mark would see his friend and patient into the house and then he and Russ would take off and give the Austins some much-needed alone time. Russ would return the therapist to OSI-Los Angeles, back into Oscar's custody where he'd once again be secured for the night. Charges seemed closer for Mark than they had been even 24 hours earlier but he was still sure he could fight them. He was grateful to Oscar for this chance to support Steve when he needed it most - and thankful to Russ for finagling his boss into allowing it.

''You're awfully quiet,'' he noted, his eyes meeting Steve's in the rearview.

Steve had to look away. While it was good to have Mark there for moral support, he really didn't feel much like talking. He'd resolved the situation with Oscar...but would he be able to do the same with Jaime? He'd harmed her (however unintentionally) and his actions had held a gravity that could have caused serious damage - both to the woman he loved so deeply and to the fabric of their marriage.

However, the more he thought about it and the more he stared wordlessly at the therapist in the front seat...the angrier Steve became. Mark had been the one who had drugged Jaime and then brought her to the ruins of National Medical. He'd also been the one who'd charged the building with a tranquilizer gun - and fired it. Steve knew this meant his jump from the window with Jaime in his arms could've been disastrous, but who, exactly, was to blame? Himself...or the therapist? Suddenly, Steve wasn't sure he could trust him. He'd say as little as possible for the rest of the drive and luckily the time passed quickly. Before he knew it, Steve was saying goodbye to the two men in the car and mounting his own front stoop.

His hand turned the knob of his own front door and Steve stepped inside...where Jaime was waiting...

- - - - -


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Jaime and Steve's eyes met and locked together. They needed the comfort of each other's arms desperately but had no idea where to start. They stood with uncomfortable awkwardness, each hoping the other would make the first move. Contact had never been more essential...and yet neither Austin moved until Jaime flashed a smile full of bright, loving reassurance without needing to say a word.

''I'm sorry,'' Steve finally managed, running his fingers through Jaime's hair as he took her in his arms ''I never meant to hurt you.''

Jaime leaned into him. ''I know.''

''I just needed to get away,'' he explained. ''Or I thought I did,''

''I know that too.''

Steve could barely breathe as he looked at her. Her gaze offered the forgiveness he'd scarcely dared to hope for. ''God, I love you...'' he whispered.

Jaime's smile held a warmth that a woman like Anna could never offer and she reached up with both hands to caress her husband's face with a tenderness Anna had never known. ''Colonel, when are you gonna tell me something I _don't_ know?'' Her lips sought his and their arms snaked hungrily around each other's bodies. ''Becca's gone on a _long_ walk with the nurse, so we can talk...then we can all have supper together.''

Steve grinned. ''Talk? There's plenty of time for that.'' He lifted Jaime off her feet with his one good arm. ''I can think of a better way to spend some private time.''

An hour later, as Jaime and Steve lay satiated and thoroughly contented in each other's arms, there were even a few minutes to talk before peace was shattered by the only sound that could break their bliss with the Austins not minding a bit.

''Daddy! Mama! Daaadeee!''

''We're back,'' the nurse called, holding Becca's hand to keep the child from rushing down the hall toward her parents.

''Do you think she _knows_?'' Jaime whispered with a happy giggle as they hurriedly threw on their clothes.

''Who?'' Steve teased. ''Jess...or Becca?''

You goofball!'' Jaime slugged her husband's good arm.

* * *

Still in his lab, Michael made another pot of coffee and prepared to work through the night. He estimated he could finish in about 36 hours - by sunrise the day after next - and he planned to batten down the hatches and _get it done_! Rudy would be released in the morning and had left no doubt that his first 'free' act would be to visit (and examine) his 'kids', which meant Michael could work straight through. He'd told no one about his 'lightbulb moment' or what he was working on. With his usual self-confidence, he knew he'd be able to help Jaime (his primary goal, of course) but there was so much more he was about to accomplish!

* * *

''YUM!'' Becca enthused, as her mother fed her a spoonful of baked potato with butter an sour cream. With her healthy appetite, she'd already devoured her hamburger (no bun) and her (adored) glazed carrots before her parent were halfway through their steaks. For what seemed like the 10th time (or more), Steve caught the child's chubby fist as she'd reached for the flickering candle flame.

''Maybe we should just blow it out,'' Jaime suggested.

Steve smiled and shook his head. ''Not the way it makes my two favorite ladies' eyes sparkle,'' he said smoothly.

''Steve Austin,'' Jaime scolded, ''if I didn't know better, I'd think you're trying to seduce me!''

Steve's own glance grew more mischievous. ''Don't need to,'' he pointed out...offering his good arm for another well-earned slug. He carved into his steak and savored a few more bites.

''How much longer do you think Oscar will keep Mark locked up?'' Jaime asked, growing suddenly wistful.

''Well, that was a 180,'' Steve said softly.

''I'm kinda gonna miss our coffee and donuts.''

Steve shrugged. ''If you ask me - and I think you just did - that so-called doctor deserves every charge Oscar can throw at him.''

''Steve! How can you say that, after he's done so much for us?''

''Well,'' Steve told her, ''if we're gonna talk about what he's done, let's talk about the time he held you in a locked room for treatment without your consent - and even without my knowledge - and go from there!''

''It almost sounds like you think that power-hungry cretin is right in what he's doing to Mark!'' Jaime snapped?

''Power...hungry...cretin,'' Steve repeated slowly with quiet anger. ''Jaime Lyn, you did _**not**_ call my boss - and the man who saved your life, I might add - a 'power hungry cretin'!''

''If the shoe fits, bash him in the head with it for all I care!'' Jaime snapped back. ''Are you aware that he was interrogating me with an eye toward putting you away?''

''Well, he had to investigate; that's his job!''

''So his job is to...lock up...innocent people without even...charging them?'' Jaime's words began to break up under the intensity of her emotion. ''He was gonna...do...to you...what he's doing...to Mark!''

''Oh please!'' Steve snapped, his voice rising. ''That _quack_ is far from innocent!''

''Mama? Daddy?'' Becca chirped from her high chair.

The discussion halted immediately; they'd almost forgotten she was there. Steve and Jaime argued only rarely and they could count the number of real fights they'd had on two hands, with a few fingers left over...but it seemed clear that once they'd put their daughter to bed, they were about to have a doozy...

- - - - -


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

It was like night and day. Jaime looked at Becca and her face lit up with the brightest of smiles as she slid a small, half-piece of cake in front of the child...then she looked across the table at her husband and her eyes grew dark. ''I don't...wanna..._fight_ with you,'' she told him.

Steve kept his voice carefully neutral in front of their daughter. ''Are we fighting?'' he asked.

''No. But if you insist on defending that stuffed-shirt bureaucrat, we're about to.''

* * *

Mark was doing his best NOT to take stock of his surroundings. In terms of lock-ups, it was the best the OSI had to offer (and at least it was not The Hole) but it was still a cell and - temporarily at least - his freedom was gone at a time when he suspected his patients might be needing him most.

_Jaime_. If an issue cropped up, Mark knew she was too strong-willed to ask for (or accept) help from Irene. And since it appeared Oscar would be questioning her further about his treatment and their doctor-patient relationship, Jaime was sure to need help from _someone_. For this reason, Mark detested being locked up (and thus kept away from a patient who _needed_ him).

_Steve_. Mark knew Steve would be needing him too, whether he realized it or not...

* * *

Jaime and Steve gave Becca her bath together and the trio sat on the floor of the child's room, playing 'tea party' until Becca's eyes began to droop. They tucked her into bed with her favorite droopy-eared bunny and one lullaby sent her drifting off to dreamland.

Now it was _time_. Steve sat back onto the sofa and Jaime cuddled next to him, settling into the comfort of his embrace as she leaned her head onto his chest. They sat together quietly like this for awhile, each reluctant to shatter the temporary sense of harmony.

Except...Steve had something to discuss - and there really wasn't a 'good time'. Tenderly, he smoothed the hair from her face and kissed her forehead...then took a deep breath. ''There's something we need to talk about,'' he began. He felt Jaime's body tense against him and he decided to just spill it; there really was no easy way to tell her. ''Oscar needs to talk to you,'' he told her.

''I did that already,'' Jaime sighed. ''And I'm done.''

''Sweetheart, he needs to talk to you...about Mark.''

''_Done_!'' Jaime repeated emphatically.

''He'll be over first thing tomorrow to take your statement.''

Jaime shook her head and sat up straight, pulling herself out of Steve's embrace. ''The hell he will! Not in my house!''

''Well, I can take you down to his office, if you'd rather - but he thought you'd be more comfortable here.''

Jaime laughed derisively, moving over to sit in Steve's overstuffed chair (away from him), clutching a pillow to her chest. ''That man doesn't...he doesn't wanna hear...what I have to say to him! He's worse than anything he's trying...to accuse Mark of! I don't...I can't stand him...and I will NOT help him! Not with this!''

''Jaime -''

''_I won't_!''

''Sweetheart, I'm really sorry, but you don't have much of a choice.'' The case against Mark dealt almost solely with his treatment of Jaime - and without the info that only she could provide, they were essentially going nowhere.

''Yeah, I know,'' Jaime grumbled. ''Freedom and democracy...they don't really exist in the OSI...do they? Oscar gets his jollies by pushing people around - innocent people! He hasn't...he never...Mark is locked up...with no charges! And that...that's okay with you?''

''Of course not!'' Steve countered. ''I hope they throw the book at him...and burn his license so he can't '_practice_' on anyone ever again!''

Jaime's eyes filled with angry tears. ''How can you...I can't believe...you'd say that...after everything he's done for us!''

''Exactly what has that man 'done for us'...aside from experimenting on you in a locked room -''

''It worked, didn't it?''

''And nearly getting you killed!'' Steve finished, leaving out that it was his own behavior that had instigated the situation and his own hand that had (accidentally) stuck her with the needle.

But Jaime knew enough of what had happened that she wasn't about to let the 'oversight' slip by. ''Exactly WHO brought us all to National in the first place?'' she cried bitterly. ''Mark was there because...he was only...trying to help!''

''Jaime, please listen to me,'' Steve pleaded.

''NO!'' She winged the pillow at her husband's head and he ducked, causing it to hit a lamp. The crash woke Becca, who began to wail. For now, the fight was over...and the Austins had never needed Mark Conrad more...

* * *

Morning was fast approaching and Michael was on his third pot of coffee when his eyes lit up and he glowed with self-satisfaction. He'd done it! He smiled as he looked over his creation and knew in his heart that it was exactly what was needed to help Jaime...and after her, so many others! Sleep was the last thing on his mind. He would join Rudy on the trip to visit the Austins that morning and he couldn't wait any longer than that to see his discovery come to fruition. Jaime was as good as cured; he just knew it! And from there, the next part of his plan would take some finagling and good old-fashioned stealth...but it would all be well worth it!

- - - - -


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Silence seemed to be the order of the day. Breakfast at the Austins (poached eggs on toast for Jaime and Steve and a scrambled egg for Becca) was punctuated only by the child's enthusiasm and the new word she'd proudly tried on for size.

''Juice!'' she said excitedly as Jaime put a cup in front of her. ''Juice! Juice!''

Steve chuckled. ''And eggs and toast, Bug,'' he said lightly, trying to interest Becca in the rest of her meal. He and Jaime ate their own food in relative silence, giving all of their attention to their daughter and pretending things between them weren't so icy and disjointed.

They'd gone to bed still angry. The alternative would've been staying up all night fighting, as they'd reached a true impasse. Oscar was due within the hour to at least try and wrangle a statement out of a recalcitrant, stubborn Jaime - and the doctors were due just before lunch. With the animosity Jaime felt toward Oscar, Steve suspected she just might need a doctor by then.

* * *

Rudy, newly released from his hospital bed, was in Michael's office, having an early morning briefing on their patients' conditions and Jaime's treatment plan for the day. While they were both doing their fair share of talking, Michael was remaining silent on what mattered most - his new discovery and his plans to use it. He suspected (correctly) that Rudy might not approve...but Michael just _knew_ it would work and serve to set Jaime back on the road to normalcy.

His plans after that would depend on the results with Jaime and on whether or not he had enough pull (and stealth) to get inside the secure holding area at OSI-Los Angeles...

* * *

Oscar was nearly completely silent as Russ drove him to his meeting at the Austins' house. Charges for Mark Conrad did not depend entirely on what Jaime had to say (or what she might refuse to say) but without her statement today - and hopefully, her future testimony - the case against the therapist could prove to be dead in the water.

Steve met them outside on the doorstep - never a good sign. ''She's in no mood for this,'' he warned.

''Then let's get started,'' Oscar announced. ''The sooner we begin, the sooner she can be done.''

Steve opened the door - and they were greeted by a sharp, ornery call from the living room. ''Bring him in...so I can tell him exactly what I think of him!''

Jaime sat with her legs drawn up to her chest and her chin resting on her knees as she glared at the (for her) unwelcome visitor. ''You're really determined to lock him up, aren't you? For doing his job and doing it well?''

Oscar seated himself and opened the file he carried with him, his pen poised even though it was already clear there wouldn't be much information voluntarily or freely given. ''Jaime,'' he began carefully, ''it's my job to consider whether Mark's methods and his treatment of you placed you in unnecessary danger.''

''Well, let me tell you something, _Mister Goldman, __**Sir**_!'' Jaime snapped. ''If it wasn't for Mark Conrad, I'd still be an emotional cripple, dreaming about men with drills...and chains...and roller coasters...and too afraid of my next flashback to ever leave the house! And Steve - do you realize that without Mark's help our marriage would've disintegrated and we certainly wouldn't have been healthy enough - or even close enough - to have had that beautiful little girl in there! I can't imagine why you think he deserves to be locked up...unless it was a slow day at the office...but you are way off-track here! And you may as well lock me up too because I have NO intention of helping you!''

Steve had known his wife's explosion was coming, but Oscar was temporarily struck dumb. And when he doggedly began to try an extract a statement from Jaime, every one of his questions was met with stony silence and a hostile glare. Finally, he had no choice but to give up (for now). He'd have to go with his own knowledge and Steve;s statement - which meant if this were ever to go to court, the Austins would very likely be sitting on opposite sides of the table.

* * *

Rudy and Michael were met far more hospitably, with hugs and a handshake for the elder doctor and a handshake and nod of respect (from Steve) for Michael. Both doctors moved efficiently and painstakingly through examining their respective patients. They had finished all that needed to be done (including putting Jaime through her paces in the backyard) and were preparing to leave when Michael quietly removed a small gray and black box from an inside pocket of his lab coat. It had several dials on top and a cone fashioned of wires that stuck out from one end. Steve spotted it in the young surgeon's hand as he moved up behind where Jaime sat next to her flowerbed.

''What's that?'' Steve questioned, grabbing Michael's arm. ''And what are you doing?''

''You need to trust me on this,'' Michael said quietly.

''With my wife? Hell, no! We've had quit enough strange contraptions, thank you very much!''

''Steve?'' Jaime questioned, lifting her head and turning toward the two men standing behind her.

''It's alright, Sweetheart,'' Steve told her. He had only one good hand and for a split-second, he released his hold on Michael to reach down and try to soothe his wife.

It was enough; the break Michael needed. The box in his hand made a strange sound as he leaned forward and touched the wires to the back of Jaime's neck. Instantly, her head lolled forward as she lost consciousness before she could say a word.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Steve swung his good arm (luckily tempering its strength at least a bit), knocking the young doctor away from Jaime and sending him sprawling to the ground.''Marchetti...what have you done to her?'' he demanded. He knelt on the ground next to his unconscious wife and laid her down gently in the grass where Rudy was already waiting to minister to her.

''Give her...a minute...'' Michael gasped, collecting himself and carefully putting the box away before rising shakily to his feet.

Indeed, Jaime was already stirring. Michael joined the other two men in leaning over her (careful to stay a safe distance from Steve's right arm).

''Vital signs are coming up,'' Rudy announced. He looked accusingly at Michael. ''What the holy _hell_ was that?''

''Jaime?'' Michael said in a clear, calm voice. His focus, for the moment, was solely on his patient. _Had it worked_?

''What?'' she responded, instantly awake and looking around with clear, unclouded eyes.

''How do you feel?'' Michael asked.

''YOU get away from her!'' Steve thundered. ''Rudy, should I call an ambulance? God only knows what HE did to her!''

Rudy looked at his colleague and assessed his current unflinching and apparently professional demeanor. ''Michael?'' he questioned again.

''She's fine,'' Michael said, still calm and steady as he eyed his patient...and her furious husband. ''In fact, after a few minutes' recovery, she should be the best she's been since the shooting.''

''Easy there,'' Rudy told Jaime, who was already attempting to sit up. ''Just rest a bit, until we know you're okay.'' He shot another glance at Michael. ''Care to fill me in, _Doctor_?'' he requested.

''For whatever reason, Jaime's nerve cells weren't making the needed connections,'' Michael explained, ''so I just made them for her.''

Steve cradled Jaime against his body with his good arm, easing her into a well-supported sitting position. ''Excuse me if I doubt your methods - and your motives,'' he growled at Michael. ''Sneaking up behind her like that!''

''Would you have let me do what was needed?'' Michael asked quietly. ''I knew it would work and -''

''And we don't know that yet!'' Steve leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on Jaime's cheek. ''Sweetheart? Talk to us?'' he pleaded. ''Are you in pain?''

Jaime blinked. ''What? No. I mean, there's no pain. What just happened?''

''Let her get up,'' Michael told Steve confidently. ''Jaime, I'd like you to try and walk for me, please.''

Jaime looked at Steve's face, a study in worry and anger, and at Rudy who appeared stunned. Slowly, she curled her feet beneath her body and pushed up to a standing position, with Steve still holding onto her protectively, in case she should fall.

''Let her go, please,'' Michael instructed.

''How do I know you didn't just poison her...or worse?'' Steve fretted.

''You don't. And you won't, unless you let go of her and see what she can do.''

''Steve, I'm okay,'' Jaime said in a clear voice. As Steve slowly released his hold, she took a few careful steps forward...and then walked away from the trio of men an toward the back porch. The transformation was astonishing. While her steps had faltered unsteadily just minutes earlier, her gait now was strong and sure. She reached the porch swing easily and sat down to face them all with a triumphant grin. ''I did it!'' she crowed.

''Yes, you did.'' Michael smiled back at her (and at his own success). ''Great job.''

Steve sat down next to his exuberant wife and extended his hand to Michael. ''I'm not sure what you just did...but thank you.''

Rudy couldn't help tending to his patient, even though she already seemed better than any of them had ever dare hope she might be again. He took Jaime's pulse, counted her respiration to himself...them turned to his former protege. ''I don't know what just happened here, either, or how you did it'' he said in amazement. ''But that was some excellent work, Doctor. And we _will_ talk later?''

''Of course,'' Michael agreed. He couldn't help but smile back at the amazed and exultant young woman on the porch swing. She'd walked the length of the lawn without faltering or needing a rest. ''How do you feel, Jaime?'' he asked quietly

''I can't believe this,'' she said in amazement. ''I did it - and I didn't fall! And nothing hurts! I think I could walk it again right now if you want me to!''

''Yes, you probably can; doesn't mean you _should_, though,'' Michael told her. ''Jaime, I know you feel better than you have in long time but I want you to give your system a chance to adjust. And Steve, please watch her over the next few days and help her ease back into a normal life, rather than diving in headfirst. We'll be by every day to check on you - and in a few days you should be ready to try a run around the track. But just like Becca, I need you to work on walking before you run.''

Another round of handshaking followed and after one more thorough check by Rudy (with Michael assisting), the doctors left the Austins to enjoy some private time together. Michael begged off from his now-essential talk with Rudy for just a few hours; he had something imperative to do first...and after the near-miracle he'd just pulled off, Rudy (however curious) trusted Michael's word and his judgment. He would wait a little longer.

Michael's next accomplishment wouldn't come as easily, even for him. He made his way into OSI-Los Angeles with all of the confidence of one who was _supposed_ to be there. He didn't have Oscar's permission (or even his foreknowledge) for what he was about to do, but if he could just finagle himself the rest of the way in, he knew the results would be wort any necessary deception. And even Oscar Goldman would be impressed...

- - - - -


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

_It worked_, Michael exulted to himself as he made his way down a dank, lonely corridor in the bowels of OSI-Los Angeles. Of course, like anything else he'd ever set his mind to, he'd known that it would. The bullet that had torn through Jaime's brain as a matter of course disrupted her normal brain waves and her nerves were unable to bridge the gaps the bullet had caused. His surgery had initially kept her alive - and his regeneration therapy had enabled her to walk and talk again - but the injury had devastated the paths that _normal_ brain waves should have taken. With his discovery, Michael had found a way to _**force**_ those vital connections and in a sense re-route her brain waves, returning to Jaime the normalcy that even more surgery might not have provided.

It was much the same way that Anna Kingsley had manipulated her victims' brains, but in reverse - with good intentions, rather than evil ones. Michael's discovery - and his plan to use it - could help so many, and (he hoped) at least in part make up for the horrific things Anna had forced him to do.

* * *

Michael's first recipient was snuggled close to her husband, sharing the same over-stuffed armchair as they watched Becca scoot around the living room, flitting from one toy to the next. Their anger and argument had been forgotten (for now) in the excitement of Jaime's apparent recovery.

''Mama! Daddy! Bunn-eee!'' Becca crowed happily, dragging her lop-eared bunny into the living room.

''And to think I almost missed all of this,'' Jaime sighed, contentedly.

Steve couldn't stop looking at her. Just that morning, she'd been pale, shaky and visibly weak. Now, it was like he was holding a different woman in his arms. However it had happened (whatever Michael had done), _Jaime was back_.

* * *

Rudy found himself questioning his own ethics again - and as always seemed to be the case when he questioned his ethics, it had to do with _Michael_. He'd once looked the other way (in Colorado Springs) while Michael developed a relationship with his patient. Was it inappropriate? Maybe. But Jaime had benefited at the time from a close working relationship with her surgeon. Was it unethical? In Rudy's mind, yes. And yet he'd looked the other way.

When he'd been hospitalized at Clayton and woke from a sedative-enforced rest to find out Michael had been released from prison and returned to National - to Rudy's own hospital - to perform life-or-death surgery on the very woman he'd been imprisoned for kidnapping, terrorizing...and _raping_, Rudy had not stopped the surgery. Unethical? _Absolutely_ And yet what choice did they have? Jaime's brain had been ravaged by that bullet! Michael had not only saved her; at the time, he'd restored walking, talking and the ability to reason, to a patient who by all rights should have been dead. Rudy had looked the other way (and allowed Michael to continue his work at National) because of the good it seemed he was doing. One of Rudy's 'kids' was still in this world, living, breathing and raising her beautiful daughter. That was as important to him as any breach in ethics.

_And now what has Michael done?_ Rudy fretted as he paced his living room from one end to the other and searched his mind for answers. It was without any doubt unethical. He and Michael had been seeing Jaime in tandem. On the ride over to the Austin's, they'd discussed Jaime's treatment plan in full (or so he'd thought) and had completed it as planned. Except Michael had other plans of his own, without Rudy's knowledge. He'd used what could only be an untested, experimental device on an unstable patient...by sneaking up behind her back! And yet, this worst of all breeches of ethics had produced seemingly breathtaking results.

Should ethical exceptions be made in the face of brilliance?

* * *

Oscar's lips were pursed thin as he sped toward his office. An alert Security man had phoned through the chain of command when he'd spotted Michael Marchetti headed for the unit of containment cells. The guard hadn't stopped him, as he had sufficient credentials to be there, but Oscar confirmed for him that none of their prisoners were requiring medical treatment.

What was Marchetti up to...and would Oscar get there in time to find out?

* * *

Michael had ducked into a tiny downstairs conference room to elude any Security men who might've been sent to try and stop him. As luck would have it, he'd already come across a holding cell guard whom he'd become friendly with during the time he'd been held there, before his trial. Now, thanks to the sympathetic guard - and Michael's own ability to talk his way through any given situation - everything was ready. The prisoner had been secured to the bed, facing the far wall (away from the door), unable to turn around or raise their arms in defense. His guard-friend opened the cell and Michael stepped inside. He removed his new device from the inner pocket of his lab coat and it made the same strange metallic sound when he turned it on.

''Hello, Anna,'' he said softly.


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Oscar strode briskly down the stairs without stopping at his office. ''Where is he?'' he demanded of the guard who had called in the alarm.

''We can't find him, Sir,'' the guard admitted.

''What the hell do you mean you can't find him? One man and all of you let him slip down where he doesn't belong?''

''We checked Mark Conrad's cell as you requested. He's alone; Doctor Marchetti isn't there.''

''Well then what could he possibly want then?'' Oscar thundered. Suddenly it hit him. ''Oh no...he wouldn't!'' Oscar turned and ran down one more flight of stairs himself, his heart sinking. Michael must be here for revenge! Oscar HAD to get there in time, before the young doctor did something foolish!

* * *

Anna never even felt it. The conical arrangement of wires touched her neck and her head lolled forward (much the same way that Jaime's had). Michael moved quickly to sit between Anna and the wall, directly facing her. ''Look at me, Anna,'' he commanded calmly.

Anna raised her head and blinked as her vision cleared. Her gaze was held prisoner by the dark eyes of the young man seated before her and instead of being the one in control, she found she couldn't look away.

''I'm in the drivers seat now; you no longer have control over _anyone_. Do you understand?''

''Yes.'' She sat quietly, obediently, not fighting her restraints and completely unsure of what had just happened to her.

''You're going to do what I tell you - exactly the way I tell you to do it. Do you understand?''

''Yes,'' she answered again.

Suddenly, the door of the cell flew open. ''What the hell are you doing here?'' Oscar demanded, livid at Michael's breech of every rule of protocol.

Michael didn't look up; he kept his gaze locked with Anna's. ''Oscar, pleas trust me,'' he said quietly, ''And give us few more minutes -''

''A few more minutes to...what? _Kill her_? Doctor Marchetti, you're in very serious trouble.''

''I'll explain everything,'' Michael said evenly. He had Anna exactly where she needed to be and touched her (shackled) hand to keep her focus solely on him. ''But right now you need to trust me. When I'm done, you can throw me in a cell if that's what you need to do...but you need to let me continue. Trust me, Oscar; you _want_ this to continue.''

By now, half a squadron of guards had arrived in the hallway behind Oscar, who still stood in the open doorway. He could see that their most important (and dangerous) prisoner had not been harmed - and her shackles meant that she couldn't harm Michael. The surgeon's intense focus on whatever it was he was doing made Oscar pause. And yet there was no observation window (as there would be in an interrogation cell) so he couldn't exactly close the door and leave them to it. ''Go ahead,'' Oscar told Michael, scarcely believing he was saying it, ''but I'll need to stay right here.''

Michael shook his head. ''Give me just a few minutes alone here, please,'' he requested.

Without any idea what was being done to his prisoner, for Oscar, Michael's request bordered on the absurd. He stood his ground. ''I'll need you to brief me first, then _possibly_ you can continue but -''

Michael's concentration never wavered. ''Oscar, this is _imperative_,'' he announced. ''Five minutes. Maybe less. I'll rap on the door when we're done but for now, please just trust me - for the good of your own investigation. Please!''

Oscar stunned even himself by what he did next. He took a step from the door...into the hallway. ''Five minutes; no more,'' he announced, nodding to the guard to close and lock the heavy cell door. He had no idea what Marchetti was attempting to do - and hadn't yet been filled on the near-miraculous results achieved with Jaime but for now the Director of the OSI stood in a dank, ugly hallway staring at a closed door and wondering exactly what the hell was going on. _What had he just agreed to?_

* * *

''NO!'' Becca announced in a tiny little voice as Steve lowered her into bed.

''Time for sleep, Peanut,'' he told her firmly.

''You've had a long, busy day,'' Jaime added. _We all have_, she thought to herself, her arm snaking around her husband so they presented a united front.

''No!'' Becca said again. She wasn't getting out of bed and allowed her parents to tuck the covers around her, but clearly she wasn't happy. ''No, no, no...bunn-eee!''

''Oh! I'm sorry, Sweetie!'' Jaime said with a chuckle. She retrieved the child's favorite toy from the living room with a deftness and spring in her step that Steve had never expected to see again. Becca's chubby little arms tightened around the well-loved toy as her parents' arms tightened around each other.

For the moment, all was well.

- - - - -


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Michael didn't know how much time Oscar would allow him, but if the distraction hadn't been too much, it shouldn't take long to finish. ''Anna, do you know where you are?'' he asked in a quiet, firm voice, taking full control.

''Yes,'' she answered, glued to his unwavering gaze.

''And do you know why?''

''Yes.''

''Very good. Now...do you know who I am?'' Michael continued.

''Of course.''

''I'm your primary target, the one you first set out to destroy. But you know what? I'm still here. And now I'm also the one who's going to make this _right_. Are you hearing me, Anna?''

''Yes.''

Michael was going to have to take a giant leap of faith in assuming that Oscar would allow what he had planned. For now, with his overabundance of self-confidence, he simply kept going. ''This is what you're going to do...'' he began.

- - -

Steve only reluctantly let Jaime out of his sight so she could enjoy a well-earned bubble bath. For the first time since she'd come home from the hospital, there was suddenly no need for him to supervise for safety's sake - although he wouldn't have minded watching her get undressed and slip into the tub. Her bath gave him a few quiet minutes alone to think...and to wonder. How long would it be before Oscar and Rudy would decide the time had come to begin tuning up Jaime's bionics, now that she was apparently well on the road to recovery? And more importantly, how would Jaime react? She'd made her feelings toward Oscar abundantly clear. As one of only a handful of bionic people in the government's pocket, it was almost inevitable that Jaime would be tuned up and 'called' into service again. Would she be able to accept orders from a man she didn't trust...or even like? One day, in the field, her life might depend on it...

- - -

Oscar stared at his watch and bit back the urge to have the thoroughly chastened guard open the cell door early. Only three minutes had passed (it felt like hours) when the rap on the door sound, the cell was opened and Michael emerged. He appeared not the least bit intimidated by the look of disbelief and anger on Oscar's face.

''I need you to get Jack Hansen and bring him here,'' Michael instructed. ''Within the hour. Now.''

Oscar raised an eyebrow at the young doctor's brazenness in daring to try and give him orders. ''That just isn't possible,'' he replied. Hansen was in the locked ward at Clayton Memorial, once again refusing (or unable) to say a word.

''It needs to _become_ possible - and as fast as you can get him here -''

Oscar had heard enough. ''Now just a minute, _Doctor_ Marchetti! You are down here with prior authorization. And unless you are the President or the Secretary, you are in no position to be giving me orders!''

Michael knew he couldn't afford to back down. Not now. ''Do you want this matter with Anna, her devices and mind control resolved, once and for all?'' he persisted. ''Or would you rather see it dragged through the courts from now 'til forever with no answers and no end in sight?'' Without waiting for a response, Michael continued. ''_Get me Jack Hansen_!'' He turned before a stunned Oscar could even open his mouth to reply and returned to Anna, leaving Oscar in the doorway.

Scarcely believing the words as they came out of his own mouth, Oscar stepped further down the hallway and keyed up his datacom, tuning in a specific frequency and taking a deep breath before he spoke. ''Clayton Memorial? This is Oscar Goldman speaking...''

* * *

Oscar may have disagreed with the young surgeon's methods - and bristled at his brashness - but he was, as always, a man who could make things happen. Within the requested hour (in less than 30 minutes, actually), Jack Hansen was being led down that lowest, darkest hallway at OSI-Los Angeles.

On Michael's instruction, Anna was turned to face the other direction (where there was more room) and re-shackled securely. Hansen was led in and also shackled to the bed, directly facing her but just out of each other's reach. As he had for many days now, Hansen remained mute throughout.

Oscar stood in the doorway and watched while Michael removed the box with the conical wires from his lab coat again. The metallic whine filled the tiny cell as Michael held the device for just a split-second to the shackled man's neck. Jack stiffened...and then went limp, his head falling forward.

''Raise your head and open your eyes, Jack,'' Michael said with authority in his voice. ''Very good. Now I want you to look at each other - _really_ look. Anna, do whatever you need to do in order to get your pawn here to call back the troops. I want everyone you caused him to force into your control 'de-activated'. There is to be no one left in your little 'army'. Do you understand?''

Anna looked straight ahead at Jack, as instructed, and gave a single nod. ''Yes.''

''I'm not interested in how you need to follow my directions,'' Michael told her in a strong voice, directly in her ear, ''but everything you've done, that you forced this man to help you with, you're going to _un-do_ - and NOW. Are you hearing me?''

Anna gave a single nod. ''Yes.''

''Jack,'' Michael went on, ''you will follow every one of her instructions - and more importantly, you will follow mine. Do _you_ understand?

The NSB Director, who hadn't spoken at all in too many days to count, looked straight ahead at the woman who had so grievously manipulated him.

''I understand,'' Hansen agreed.

- - - - -


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Michael stood in front of his two subjects and listened with quiet satisfaction as Anna began to undo at least some of the ham she had done. Then he turned and head toward Oscar, content to leave them to it.

Oscar did his best to stand his ground and not flinch or back away. From all appearances, Michael Marchetti had created his own rudimentary mind control device! Oscar couldn't help wondering if he'd be the next to be 'zapped'.

''Tell me about what you just did,'' Oscar requested, at least keeping up the appearance that he was the one in charge.

Michael shrugged modestly. ''I did the same thing with Jaime.''

''You _**what**_?!'' The thought was unbearable.

Michael's smile was warm and reassuring. ''I didn't hurt anyone,'' he explained, ''Even if Anna might've deserved it.'' He looked into the cell at his two most recent subject. ''Let's find somewhere that we can talk,'' he suggested, Once Anna's cell was locked (with Anna and Hansen both shackled and hard at work), he and Oscar retreated to the same small conference room where he'd so recently hidden from Security.

Oscar had two of his 'penguins' stand guard...just in case. ''Alright; tell me what's going on,'' he requested again.

''Nothing sinister, I can assure you,'' Michael began. ''When I took a closer look at all of Jaime's test results put together, I realized her brain waves simply needed to be re-routed. Essentially, I _**forced**_ her brain to re-wire and heal itself. And once I found a way to do that for her, it only stood to reason that I could also 're-program' Anna,'' he concluded, as if it was the simplest idea to grasp and the easiest thing to be able to do.

One realization both intrigued Oscar - and terrified him. ''So basically,'' he said (giving voice to the unimaginable fear), ''You could control anyone you choose.''

''Well...yes but only certain people and only to a point,'' Michael admitted ''For almost anyone else, this treatment would either have no effect at all...or it could turn their brains into scrambled eggs. An MRI and full neurological work-up would be the surest indicators. I would offer to turn this device over to you - along with my notes - but...''

Oscar nodded. ''But if you had the desire you could easily construct a new one now.''

''Exactly. But there's no reason for you or almost anyone else to fear.''

Oscar caught the qualifier - and had to call him on it. ''_Almost anyone_?''

As Michael began to explain, far too many details (of unbelievably complex technicality) were suddenly thrown at Oscar, all at once. He was a man who'd gotten where he was in life by his ability to assess any situation and make a firm decision - decisions that could affect many lives and, indeed could _cost_ lives when he made a wrong call. Should Michael be welcomed back into the fold of those who were most trust - and most utilized - by the OSI, in light of a discovery that could effectively be used against their enemies? Or should he be locked away forever as an evil genius, much like Anna? Where was the middle ground...and _**was**_ there a middle ground at all? In essence, Michael was claiming that his device would only be able to 'set right again' brain waves that had otherwise been interfered with (by a bullet, in Jaime's case and by Ann and Jack's interference, in others. Whether it had other uses was unclear to Oscar, as it would be to anyone without very sophisticated medical and technical knowledge

Oscar was also a man who'd gotten where he was in life by knowing when and how to consult others when that need arose. In this case, he knew that Rudy Wells (who had been a familiar and well-trusted name almost since the inception of the OSI) had the technical knowledge to wade though the details of Michael's discovery...and Rudy knew the young surgeon as well as anyone on the planet did.

Once again, an ethical decision regarding Michael Marchetti was about to fall (at least in part) into Rudy's lap.

* * *

When sufficient time had passed, Oscar made a huge leap of faith of his own by allowing it when Michael asked the guard to release Jack Hansen from his shackles. ''He's fine now,'' Michael pronounced. ''The only power he holds now in terms of 'mind control' is to give your men - or you yourself, if you prefer - a full list of those he's affected under Anna's instruction. They will then each require the same treatment as you just witnessed me perform on Jack himself. After that, the fear that anyone else is out there trying to destroy the OSI or harm the Austins will be over.'' Michael could read the skepticism all over Oscar's face. ''Why don't you go ahead and get that list,'' Michael suggested. ''In the meantime, I'll meet with Rudy or with anyone of your choosing and you can then decide if you'd like me to proceed.''

For Oscar, it was going to come down to a matter of trust. _Could he trust Michael Marchetti?_

- - - - -


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

The sun had long since gone down but even in the dark of night, there wasn't a moment they could waste. Michael was driven immediately to Rudy's office with Russ assigned to stand witness to their meeting, while Oscar and two high-level penguins met with Jack Hansen in Oscar's office. A list of all who had been 'influenced' slowly began to take shape...and it was frighteningly longer than anyone had expected. It took Oscar's breath away as he began to realize just how many were out there, working to undermine the OSI...and to harm Jaime and Steve. As the list slowly but steadily grew longer, it became apparent that Anna truly had fashioned herself a small army. Some of them were among Oscar's most trusted penguins, others were from the NSB and from the old Security staff at National Medical. Did Michael truly have the ability to return these dozens of unwitting pawns to normalcy...and could he be trusted to do so?

* * *

Rudy listened carefully to everything Michael told him. He looked at the test results that had led to this discovery and he reviewed Michael's notes. He had worked alongside Michael for many years, and yet even Rudy was stunned by the brilliance that had enabled the young neurosurgeon to look at a series of test results and come up with _this_!

Was it mind control? Not really. As Michael detailed the device and what it could do, Rudy realized it was more along the lines of 'mind correction'. What it would do to a normal, unaltered brain was unclear. Michael's _scrambled eggs_ remark was a possibility. It was equally likely that a normal brain would experience no effects at all. Further in-depth study might give an answer to that but for now, Oscar needed a more immediate opinion. _Could Michael, by the use of his new device, remove all untoward influences from the minds of 'Anna'a Army'?_ It appeared that he could.

_Could Michael be trusted to do so, and not try to create the 'scrambled egg' brains he had spoken of, both to Oscar and again several times to Rudy?_ Rudy had witnessed the seemingly amazing results achieved with Jaime. He'd heard from Oscar how Anna had - apparently - been turned into an obedient pussycat. Still, an entire list of people that might need to be subjected to what was at best still an experimental treatment?

Rudy had some serious soul searching to do - and not much time to do it.

* * *

Steve lay very quietly in bed, propped up on his one good elbow and watching Jaime as she slept. There was a peaceful smile on her face, which put one on his own. Her transformation today had been from that of a semi-invalid (easily frustrated and even more easily angered) to a cheerful, fully capable, normal-seeming mother and wife. Marchetti had (it appeared) NOT turned her into a Stepford Wife, either; she was very close to the same Jaime she'd been before a bullet lacerated her brain.

Steve hadn't been sure he could trust Jaime's doctor before...and while he was immensely grateful for what had apparently occurred that day, a small part of him wondered if Michael had somehow also influenced Jaime in a way that might make her more susceptible should the doctor decide to make another 'play' for his patient...

Stev'e other worry had nothing to do with Michael and everything to do with Jaime...and _Oscar_. He couldn't keep away the knowledge that if Jaime's current upswing was permanent, she was now likely to be considered 'fit for duty'. Was she aware of this - and how would she react - both to the thought of possibly working again AND to having to accept orders from Oscar?

* * *

Jack Hansen was releasing names for the 'list' slowly, appearing to be painstakingly searching his memory for each and every detail, each and every person. The fact that he was even verbal and coherent again after spending so long mutely staring at a wall was another apparent Marchetti-miracle. Would the effects hold long enough to finish the ever-growing list - and would they then hopefully be permanent? Perhaps, Oscar thought, there was even hope of Jack returning to the NSB in some capacity in the future!

The list kept growing, making it clear that the OSI still remaining intact (and the Austins at least recently unharmed) was a fluke and a lucky break. Anna's army was truly that - a small army from every branch of government and every imaginable type of support personnel. IF the conclusion from Rudy about Michael's device and his intentions was positive one, these people would need to be rounded up and...then exactly what would happen to them?

* * *

''Juice!'' came the happy chirp from Becca's room just before the sun came up. ''Juice, _juice, __**juice**_!''

''I'll get her,'' Jaime offered, instantly awake and energetic (instead of pulling the covers over her head and groaning as had often become her norm). Rather than step carefully one foot and leg at a time from the bed and then taking a few moments to collect her balance, Jaime threw back the sheet and bounded from the bed, excited to begin a new day, even at an unGodly early hour.

* * *

Jack Hansen looked up from his work and reached for a cup of coffee. ''That's it; the last of them,'' he announced. ''I'm finished.''

Oscar wondered where his former colleague should be sent now that he appeared normal. Then he picked up the sheet from the table...and nearly choked on his own coffee. There was suddenly a far bigger problem to deal with than where to send Jack Hansen. _The last name on Hansen's list was __**Michael Marchetti**__._

- - - - -


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Michael and Rudy took some time at the end of their meeting for badly needed coffee...when Russ' datacom crackled urgently to life. He turned up the volume on his ear piece...and his face paled. Within minutes, there was a heavy pounding on the door and Russ opened it to allow five well-armed colleagues to storm the office. Two stood on either side of Michael and the fifth positioned himself across the table. Their guns were drawn. Russ quickly moved Rudy to a safe corner of the room, out of the potential line of fire (and away from Michael should he try to pull the device from his pocket and use it).

''I'll need you to hand over that invention of yours,'' the man across the table told Michael. ''And then you'll need to come with us.''

The doctor-turned prisoner was escorted up a flight of stairs and locked in an interrogation room while Oscar consulted with Rudy. Michael remained calm when (instead of watching through the observation window) Oscar was the one who joined him across the little table.

''Jack Hansen finished his list,'' Oscar began.

''I knew that he would. So why are we here and not in my lab or -''

''Your name was on the list, _Doctor_ Marchetti.''

Michael appeared completely unfazed. ''If it was, I imagine I fought it off the same way I fought off the headaches that meant Anna herself was trying to control me before her main machine was destroyed. It must have become second nature to me, to fight off extraneous influences and stay in control.''

''You understand why this brings every one of your actions of the last 24 hours into serious question?''

''Of course,'' Michael said smoothly. ''But there's a way to resolve this and then still put an end to Anna's little army. Give me an MRI and let me look at the results to be sure - then I want Rudy to use my discovery on me. I've likely successfully fought off her influence - and Jack's - but if my brain waves have been altered, you can rest assured that I'm the first one who wants them put 'right'. And you can be convinced of the medical safety and efficacy of the unit by the fact that I'm asking to be a recipient. After that, we can start working our way down the list.''

Oscar nodded. According to Rudy, Michael's notes were coherent and his reasoning was sound. To the elder doctor, his former protege's desire to set things right again was sincere. Once he'd heard that from Rudy and then heard Michael's own proposal, Oscar's decision was made; Michael would be given a chance.

* * *

''You do realize this could be the most convoluted plot of them all,'' Russ theorized while he and Oscar stood on the other side of a leaded shield as Michael lay quietly on the thin, moving table of the MRI machine.

''I know,'' Oscar agreed. ''But Rudy has given the discovery - and the man himself - a thumbs up. Since Rudy and Michael haven't always seen eye to eye lately, that speaks volumes. And...when I listened to Michael talk, while I'll readily admit I don't understand a lot of what he told me last night, his voice had the ring of truth to it.''

Russ nodded to his boss' expertise. ''You've always been an excellent judge of character - even well-hidden character. If you and Rudy both think Michael is wearing a white hat this time, that's good enough for me.''

* * *

The Austins' nurse, who it seemed might soon no longer be necessary, treated Becca to an early morning trip to the park (and Becca's parents to a little quiet 'alone' time for their own breakfast) after the child had finished her meal and 'read' a book with Steve and Jaime.

Steve watched his wife as she flitted happily around the kitchen. He offered to help but was cheerily turned down. ''It feel so _good_ to move again!'' Jaime told him. ''I can't even begin to describe what it was like to be trapped in a body that didn't do what I told it to do! It was like...like it was disconnected from my brain somehow and just not taking orders - or scrambling them!'' Jaime filled the sink with hot sudsy water, handed Steve a towel and continued to chatter, barely stopping to take a breath. ''Here; you dry. You know, it was like my mouth was disconnected too! I knew the words I wanted to say but they just didn't come out right.''

''Mouth seems to be working just fine now,'' Steve chuckled. He leaned over to kiss her cheek before she could slug him.

* * *

Michael studied his own MRI results under heavy guard. He motioned for Rudy and then pointed to the lightbox, showing him a specific area on the brain scan. ''It doesn't look abnormal at first glance - but it is. I need you to touch the back of my neck with the unit - it will discharge and turn itself off. Then a 2nd MRI will show a subtle, barely perceptible change _here_,'' Michael emphasized with a pointer. ''That's how you'll know it worked. Tangible proof, so no one has to take my word.''

Michael showed no signs of fear or doubt; indeed his voice was clear and steady and he held his head high. ''Let's do this,'' he announced.

- - - - -


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Michael's head fell forward and it seemed like everyone in the room held their collective breath, unsure of what would happen next. Before Rudy could even move in to take the younger doctor's pulse, Michael raised his head again and opened his eyes.

''I'm alright,'' he announced. ''Go ahead and check me over,'' he requested of Rudy, ''then let's get back to the MRI.'' While the machine was set up for another round, Michael turned to Oscar and Russ. ''I know I'm not in any position right now to make suggestions and you haven't even asked my opinion but...'' He paused, waiting quietly for whatever Oscar might say or do.

''Go ahead,'' Oscar told him. ''We're listening.''

''You may want to start rounding up the people on that list. Tell them whatever you need to, to get them here - and then as soon as Rudy looks at this second MRI, I'd like to help you in however you decide to proceed.''

''Will everyone of them need _that_?'' Russ asked, nodding through the glass at the huge, foreboding-looking MRI machine.

''Ideally, yes. But once you're fully convinced that I'm on the level, we'll talk about it further. You may decide to move more quickly - and I can help you with that.''

''We're ready for you, Doctor,'' the tech told Michael.

As the second scan was underway, both Oscar and Russ noted to themselves that Michael hadn't even a shred of doubt as to what the tests would show. His confidence in the face of what he was up against was both impressive...and highly convincing.

''Want me to get started on this list?'' Russ offered. While he'd still not been officially reinstated to his position as Oscar's right-hand man, he was already fulfilling the duties admirably in the midst of a high-pressure situation. Oscar nodded his assent and Russ began to scan the list. ''_Oh no..._'' he said almost involuntarily.

Oscar looked to the name Russ was pointing at in such utter horror. _Jessica Armstrong_, Jaime and Becca's favorite nurse. Russ looked up at the clock on the wall. ''She's on duty right now!'' he gasped. If she'd been programmed by Hansen to harm the Austins, there was no telling when or how she might strike.

''Send a team over to Steve and Jaime's,'' Oscar instructed, ''and -''

''I'll call Steve to warn him,'' Russ said quickly (completing his boss' thought), ''and then I'll head over there myself!''

* * *

Steve hung up the phone and looked at Jaime, who was still happily dancing around the kitchen, cleaning up, making muffins and preparing a salad for lunch all at the same time and rejoicing in everything she was suddenly able to do. Steve knew he was about to burst her bubble in a big way but he had no choice. Just 24 hours earlier, he'd have kept this from her, handled it himself in fear of sending her condition into a tailspin. Still...what exactly should he tell her? The info was sketchy at best and even if it were true, Becca was probably in no danger.

But 'probably' simply wasn't good enough; not when their _daughter_ was concerned! He gave Jaime a brief rundown of what was happening - and what might be happening - then he held her while she cried before rushing off to the park himself. He got Jaime to agree to wait at home in case Jess an d Becca returned. They'd been gone an awfully long time, long enough for Jaime and Steve to cook and eat their own breakfast, clean up...and even for Jaime to make that batch of muffins! In spite of the reassuring words he'd offered his wife, Steve was beyond worried!

He ran as fast as he dared run in public, toward the park. He met them halfway there, coming down the sidewalk. Or rather...he met Jess. She held one hand behind her back, out of Steve's view and the other hand nonchalant;y pushed the stroller. Steve literally felt his breath catch in his throat when he saw the _stroller was empty_!

''Where's my daughter?'' Steve demanded accusingly.

Jess shook her head (still smiling) and pulled a glowering, sobbing Becca from where she'd been leading/pulling her by the hand. ''Someone didn't want to leave the park,'' she explained.

''What did you do to her?'' Steve snarled, swooping his sniffling child up I his arms.

''I really wouldn't do that if I were you,'' Jess told him calmly. ''Reward a tantrum and she'll have another every time things don't go her way; I guarantee it.''

Steve put Becca down to stand on her own two (stomping) feet. He almost had to laugh when he looked at her; he'd seen the same angry glower and pout on her mother's face hundreds of times!

''She's...(sniffle)..._mean_, Daddy!'' the child protested.

''Looks like the Terrible Twos have hit with a vengeance, Colonel,'' the nurse chuckled.

* * *

Rudy looked up at the lightbox with Michael beside him (and Security penguins lining the room). ''He's right, Oscar,'' he announced. ''The change is there, exactly as Michael had said it would be.''

Oscar stepped forward and turned toward Michael. ''Alright,'' he said, ''so what the hell do we do now?''

''MRIs would tell you the story for sure,'' Michael began, ''But there are just too many of them.''

''I _**hope**_ you have a solution for us...? Are we just supposed to line up dozens of subjects and 'zap' them with your device - whether they consent to it or not?''

That was a breach of ethics that Rudy found he couldn't swallow. He shook his head with surprising vehemence. ''That's not what he's saying,Oscar; it can't be!''

Michaels's expression was dark and sad...and his voice was grim. ''That's _exactly_ what I'm saying...''

- - - - -


	25. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Becca was still sniffling, stomping and dragging her feet when they reached the house. Once she'd figured out that Daddy (who'd always been wrapped around her little finger) wasn't going to take her back to the park either, the tantrum began anew...and continued all the way home. Jaime'd been anxiously watching out the front window and threw open the door to wrap her sobbing child in her arms - until Steve caught her eye and shook his head.

While Jaime was still trying to sort out what had happened, Russ stood up from the sofa and began leading Jess toward his car subtly, without her even realizing what was happening.

''We have to talk,'' he said, opening the passenger door for her.

* * *

The first half dozen men from the list (Russ had not arrived yet with Jess) were seated around a conference table at OSI-Los Angeles...with absolutely no idea why they'd been assembled there. Among them were three penguins, a hospital orderly, a minister and a doctor.

''I know you don't exactly trust me right now,'' Michael told Rudy and Oscar in the next room over. ''I'm not sure I'd trust me either, in your shoes...but we've got a problem. And I've got your only solution. You don't necessarily have to trust me. You certainly can't trust Anna Kingsley..but Hansen has no reason to lie to you; he has nothing to gain.''

''Speaking of Anna,'' Oscar interjected, ''How do we know it hasn't been the two of you together in this, all along?''

''You don't,'' Michael said bluntly. ''But once this works, you'll know I'm on the level. And you really have no other options, do you?''

''He does have a point, Oscar,'' Rudy allowed.

''You could've joined forces back when you were up for the same internship,'' Oscar persisted. ''Or maybe you've only recently fallen under her spell. But with your own name on that list -''

''A list I got for you,'' Michael reminded him. ''And my MRIs prove what I'm saying!''

''If they prove you were under her influence, why should we believe you now, that you're on the level and not still working for her?''

''Because I haven't been 'working for her' for a long time! Not since...what happened with Jaime.''

''I was at that prison,'' Oscar shot back. ''You remember the one, Michael? When you blackmailed your way to freedom? Your record was cleared before you'd agree to operate...''

''Of course I remember!'' Michael snapped bitterly. ''And believe it or not, I would've helped her anyway. But we need to get past that - at least for the time being - and deal with the men in the conference room next door! And the dozens more that will be coming soon after! How do _**you**_ propose to deal with them, Oscar? Rudy? Because I'm handing you the only solution and I won't sit here and be vilified for it! Am I under arrest...or 'in custody' as you so politely put it these days?'' he asked Oscar.

''Of course not.''

''Then I guess I'm free to go; good luck handling this on your own!'' (Michael was bluffing. He had no intention of leaving them in the lurch...but he was also tired of being nailed to the cross.) He stood up and turned toward the door.

Rudy put a hand on his arm. ''Michael, wait,'' he pleaded. ''You're right; obviously, we need your help.''

* * *

Jaime sank down onto the easy chair and stood her still-sniffling child in front of her. She'd been about to draw Becca into her lap0 to comfort her, but Steve stood firm, arms crossed and a bemused smile on his face.

''T- A-N-T-R-U-M,'' he spelled. ''And she gets that quivering lower lip from someone else I know and love.''

''Very funny, Austin,'' Jaime grumbled. She pulled Becca closer, holding her in place gently by the arms. Russ's sudden appearance in her living room, combined with what Steve had told her about the phone call (and then seeing Jess led away, however calmly and quietly it had been done) was enough to make Jaime feel the need to question her daughter. ''What happened, Sweetie?'' she asked softly.

''Was fun...(sniffle)...swinging...and...(small sob thrown in for dramatic purposes)...she was _mean_ to me!''

''What did Jess do to you, Becca?'' Jaime probed, as carefully as possible.

''Had to...(major sniffle)...go home!''

Jaime had to suppress the laughter that nearly escaped her lips...along with a sigh of relief.

* * *

Oscar and Rudy decided the evil-looking device was best placed in the hands of its inventor - so with Michael leading the way, they headed toward the conference room, where the number of Anna and Jack's victims had swelled to 11, with Jess, two more penguins, another doctor and a Security guard joining the ranks.

Michael stopped at the door - and then turned around, back into the smaller room they'd just come from. ''What is it?'' Oscar asked, with equal parts annoyance and trepidation. ''You need to break them up into smaller groups,'' Michael explained. ''The treatment is fast...but not instantaneous. When the rest of the room sees what happens with the first few, you could be facing panic or worse...revolt.''

Once again, Michael was right. ''How many do you consider manageable in each room?'' Oscar asked.

''Preferably no more than four. Three would be better. Tell them whatever you need to; lies are your department, not mine.''

Oscar and his best team saw to the preparations immediately. Finally, when Michael was satisfied that things could proceed safely (and with a minimum of panic), he entered the first room.

He started with the minister...

- - - - -


	26. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

The minister's body quivered (a reaction not seen from Anna, Hansen or Michael) before his head lolled forward. Michael had already moved on to the second man - a penguin - almost before anyone had time to notice or react. But the doctor (who was to be subject number three) was halfway out of his chair and trying to decide whether to bolt or to try and help the minister (who was no longer quivering but was strangely silent) when Michael took a long, fast stride toward him...and 'zapped' him too.

''What have we done?'' Rudy lamented softly.

''They're fine,'' Michael affirmed as even the minster raised his head. They seemed disoriented and confused - but because they were unsure of what had just happened (rather than as a side effect of the 'treatment'. ''Send someone in to bring them a cup of coffee and a sandwich then let them rest for awhile. We need to move on...and a lot more quickly.''

He was right. The number of 'patients' continued to swell, and various offices and small meeting rooms were now filled with three people each - all of whom were growing restless...

* * *

Anna sat alone in her cell, struggling with a feeling that was completely foreign to her: helplessness. For nearly all of her adult life, she'd been in complete control of almost anything and anyone she chose. Most of it had been for revenge, to hurt the ones she'd perceived as having wronged her in any way...but some of it was for the sake of pure amusement. Producing chaos and then sitting in the middle of a maelstrom of her own creation (while those around her ran about like headless chickens) was FUN! Now, though, it seemed she couldn't even control herself...and she had no idea how it had happened.

She'd been sitting in her cell, mulling over her accomplishments and picturing her enemies in utter misery - pain that she had created! Then they'd come to shackle her...but that was nothing new. It simply meant that the OSI, the NSB - or whatever triple-lettered agency was the next to try and crack her - was about to send in another of their 'best' for her to play with for awhile. She thought of her interrogators as chew toys that she could mangle and spit out...or like a mouse that she could toy with, with cat-like intensity, until either they gave up or she tired of them and fell into inarguable silence. In any case, it broke up her day.

She'd even teased the guard who'd come to lock her (once again) to the wall. She'd felt in rare form and looked forward to ripping another of the 'best and brightest' to shreds. Then things had spiraled in a direction very quickly. Instead of making her sit and wait, chained there (which had lately become one of their favorite tactics), the cell door had opened almost immediately. She heard someone greet her by name but she didn't even have time to register who was speaking before she felt the oddest sensation. It was like someone had flipped a master switch and turned off every light on the entire planet, sending her hurtling into absolute darkness while a loud _buzz_ing filled every cell of her body while she remained fully aware. Then, almost as soon as it started, it was over. The lights came on again, in both her conscious and subconscious worlds. She couldn't quite grasp it, but she felt _different_ somehow. Her nemesis - one of the people she hated most - leaned in close and dared to tell her what do! Except, oddly, she hadn't been able to even consider resisting! When Jack Hansen was brought in, she found herself giving him instructions that would essentially undo the majority of the damage she'd caused - to quiet the chaos she'd worked so gleefully to create! The worst part - even worse than the fact that she couldn't stop herself - was that Anna didn't understand _**why**_.

* * *

The mood of anyone still walking the hallways at OSI-Los Angeles was visibly tense. Michael had moved on to a second room...and then a third...and the tension grew into an almost audible rumble. People still waiting in the small rooms were figuring out that these were no ordinary 'meetings' they were attending - and that they were, in fact, being detained.

''We aren't going to make it,'' Rudy fretted, realizing this had gotten too big too quickly and they would no longer be able to use the element of surprise since they'd now be entering rooms where the occupants were alert that something was _wrong_. Unless they found someone - immediately - who was skilled in diffusing the stress of the masses, people who were still under Hansen's orders (and thus unpredictable) could begin causing any and all sorts of mayhem. They needed someone like...

Michael had the identical thought at the same time. ''We need Mark Conrad in here NOW!'' he told Oscar.

''Sure,'' Oscar scoffed. ''I'll just go two hallways down, to where we have him locked up and ask him if he'd be interested in doing the OSI a little favor...''

''Do whatever you have to!'' Michael snapped.

- - -


	27. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Mark could tell immediately that even though both Oscar and Rudy had their doubts about what they were doing, they stood behind Michael and his treatment - not just because it was their only option, but because it _worked_. Oscar's teams had simply been too efficient in rounding up the listed people so quickly...and they were about to have a near-riot on their hands. He didn't stop to consider that the agency keeping him locked up because of his treatment methods was now desperately asking for his help. He didn't even take a minute to try and negotiate his freedom.

''Let's get this done!'' he announced firmly.

* * *

Steve sat and watched as Jaime jollied Becca out of her stormy mood and he had to smile...if only for a moment. He was finding it harder and harder to 'stay put' and not rush down to headquarters to help sort things out. Russ had requested he remain home and available before leaving with Jess. Steve had then managed to get Rudy on the phone but only briefly, getting the quickest, bare-bones rundown of the situation but being assured he should stay with his family. Then another phone call 'just to make sure he wasn't needed' had left him restless...and _worried_. He hadn't been able to speak with Oscar that time either (or even with Russ or Rudy) and tension on the part of the person who'd been charged with speaking to him was so thick that Steve could practically taste it.

To try and occupy his mind, he began piecing together what he knew: Michael's discovery, the one that had apparently helped Jaime so dramatically, was being used _right now_ on who-knew-how-many people...because of something Hansen had told them, under _Anna's_ direction! Rudy had told him that Michael himself appeared to have been 'affected' all along but was somehow able to fight it off. That fact, added to Jess having been spirited away _and_ the requests that he stay with Jaime and Becca, told Steve they'd had a very close call, indeed.

Since he'd personally been assigned to help investigate the plane crash, Steve's mind was immersed in those details - and tossed them into the swirling mess of his confusion. If Michael was truly free of Anna's influence and - he was guessing - Jess had been somehow 'affected' (although Steve was still trying to figure out what 'affected' meant), the realization socked Steve in the gut. It was painfully obvious who had (unknowingly) carried the device on board their doomed airplane...

* * *

Mark moved calmly and efficiently from room to room, delivering a lot of platitudes but managing to quiet almost everyone's fear and anger. Michael, Rudy and Oscar followed quickly behind him, taking care of what needed to be done - and gradually the noise, stress and confusion was diminished and couriers moved through the hallways delivering coffee and sandwiches.

Then Mark reached a room that had an extra set of Security guards outside...and an anguished wail coming from within. ''I haven't done anything; I'm supposed to be on duty! I could be fired! Please...why can't I leave?''

Mark slipped inside and quickly pulled up a chair next to the panicked nurse. While he had seen the actual list, Mark had only had time to scan it briefly. Her name hadn't jumped out at him any more than the others he knew equally as well (and had work alongside of). To see her sitting there was suddenly no surprise. Who better to (albeit unknowingly) funnel information about the Austins to Hansen - and thus, to Anna - than someone directly IN the Austin's household?

Mark patted her hand and spoke softly to her. ''Steve knows you're here, Jess; you won't be fired.'' (_Hurry up. Michael_, he thought to himself. _Hit this room next_.)

Her cries died down to a tortured whisper at the familiar, friendly face with the first kind words she'd heard since leaving the Austins'. ''What's going on here?'' she pleaded. ''Russ just said he needed to talk to me...but then we barely talked at all, the whole way here. I just...I don't understand...'' Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, then as Mark watched, the nurse's entire countenance changed from frightened...to murderous. She shook off his hand and stood up so forcefully that the chair fell back from behind her. ''_Get __**away**__ from me_!'' she shrieked. ''They can't make me stay here - and neither can _you_! I have to get back; Becca needs me!''

Mark tried - and failed - to 'bear hug' her into a chair. The two men who'd been forced to wait in the same room looked too shocked to move. With a wrenching motion, Jess broke free and tugged at the door with all of her strength. It didn't budge until Michael and the others, having heard the struggle, finally arrived. When the guard unlocked the door for him, Michael stood with his device at the ready, discharging it immediately. The afflicted, 'affected' young woman froze in place, her voice dropping off mid-word. Her head lolled forward and her body fell quivering to the floor.

- - - - -


	28. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Carafes of coffee and trays of sandwiches wouldn't placate Anna's former army for very long, but those who would be charged with 'cleaning up' the mess at OSI needed to rest a bit, recuperate themselves...and formulate a plan. Oscar found himself having to do something that had become quite foreign to him: give up control, at last for a little while.

''So...what do we do?'' he sighed.

''Ideally, I'd like to check them all over personally,'' Michael announced. ''Preferably administer MRIs. But there's only one of me and it just isn't feasible; not all in one night, anyhow.''

''The way I understand it,'' Mark began, ''they're no danger to themselves or anyone else now. Correct?'' Michael nodded. ''So right now,'' Mark suggested, ''a calm, reasonable explanation - and one that won't frighten them too terribly - should suffice for the night. Then you can start bringing them back tomorrow, in smaller, more manageable groups.''

Jess, the minister and a couple of penguins who'd all experienced the slightly more adverse reaction to Michael's treatment had already quietly been transported to Clayton as a precaution, so Oscar, Rudy and Michael nodded; it was sensible. It would work.

''We'll take them all down to the main conference room,'' Oscar agreed.

''I'd be happy to help you talk to them before you send me back to my very own - _locked_ - luxury suite,'' Mark offered.

''I don't think keeping you in custody is an option we need to exercise,'' Oscar told him. ''I may have some questions about certain of your treatment methods - but we can discuss that privately, another time. Anyone who can diffuse such a volatile situation without any thought to his own freedom doesn't deserve to be behind bars.''

Mark nodded. ''Thank you,'' he said quietly, then he turned to Michael. ''Before we attempt to diffuse the rest of what might be waiting for us, I think you and I should have one more quiet little talk...with Anna.''

''I'll have my men get everyone together,'' Oscar announced. ''Then while we're waiting, I think I need to speak with Rudy...about Jaime.''

* * *

Steve and Jaime lit a fire (more for the atmosphere than the heat) and curled up in each others' arms after Becca had played, snacked and danced herself off to happy dreams. ''I haven't felt this good since...I don't even remember when,'' Jaime sighed happily. ''Whatever Michael did, I hope it lasts.''

_I'd still like to know __**what**__ he did_, Steve thought to himself. He pulled Jaime closer and gently stroked her hair, trying to ignore the tiny mark on her neck that looked something like a cross between a bug bite and a burn. He kissed her cheek, her neck, her earlobes - happy and grateful to have 'his' Jaime back...but unable to shake that nagging bit of trepidation.

''Do you think Rudy'll give me my strength back, now that I'm well again?'' Jaime asked. '''Cause I really feel..._better_ now.''

''I'm sure he'll consider it, if it's what you really want,'' Steve answered, nuzzling her neck.

''Except then...'' Jaime frowned, ''I'd have to deal with _Oscar_ again. Wouldn't I?''

''Well, most likely, Sweetheart.''

Jaime sat up, pulling herself out of Steve's arms. She shook her head with the firm set to her jaw that Steve knew all too well.''Then forget it. I'm not gonna work for _that man_! I won't! He tried to turn me against you, just to get the information he wanted -''

''He was trying to clear me, Jaime.''

''Not like that! I was already trying to tell him everything; he didn't have to -''

''It's over. He's not pressing any charges,'' Steve pointed out. ''That proves that he's reasonable and -''

''NO! Steve, I just don't trust him! And I never will!''

* * *

Anna was quiet, not fighting the shackles that still held her against the wall. She sat with her head leaning back against the concrete wall, her eyes closed, only opening them slowly and finally looking up to greet her visitors.

''Game, set, match,'' she told Michael with a small, humble (un-Anna-like) smile. ''I give you kudos; you win again.''

''This wasn't a competition, Anna - and it certainly wasn't a game,'' Michael said firmly.

''It was for me - it was even _**fun**_.''

''And now it's over,'' Mark told her, stepping the rest of the way into the small cell. ''If there's anything else you need to tell us - or anything you _should_ tell us - now's the time for you to do that...''

* * *

''Is she healthy enough?'' Oscar asked.

''She could be,'' Rudy acknowledged. ''If what Michael did really 'holds'. I'd like to try tuning her back up, a little at a time, to see if her bodys even still amenable to bionic strength.''

Oscar nodded. ''Let's go and see her tomorrow.''

- - - - -


	29. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Jaime nearly bounced out of bed the next morning, filled with energy and excitement. She'd almost forgotten how much she loved the very early mornings, before Steve or even Becca had awakened. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept so well. Perhaps the way she and Steve had chosen to 'make up' from their minor squabble about Oscar had made a difference. Maybe it was Michael's new treatment...but whatever it was, she hummed softly to herself as she set out the items she'd need to prepare breakfast and then readied a pot of coffee. Her melodic preparations stopped only for a second when (probably from an excess of energy and enthusiasm) she missed the mug as she poured her coffee. Even then, it took just a moment to run her fingers under cold water and clean up the counter. Then she took her coffee and a buttered croissant out onto the back porch swing, where she could watch the sun just beginning to rise over the flower beds.

Oscar was also (of course) already up and about, beginning his day. Going to see Jaime would have to wait a little longer, as he and Michael were going to start bringing in small, manageable groups from the day before, for follow-ups. It would take the majority of the day (and beyond), so Oscar was sending Rudy to check on Jaime's progress and her general condition, to report back to him.

Rudy was preparing for the day with his second cup of coffee, studying Jaime's MRIs - both past and present - and marveling at what appeared to have taken place. If nothing had changed since yesterday, if the dramatic improvements continued to hold, having her walk the length of the backyard would be far too simplistic. He'd give her a careful once-over and then they could head for the track. They'd be using the new track at the site where National Medical was being built and Rudy was quite eager to view the progress of his new building as well as the almost-unbelievable progress of his patient.

* * *

Rudy thought that both Jaime _and_ National were exactly like the phoenix, rising to glory from the ashes of ruin. The new building was going up faster and more efficiently than he'd dared hope - and _Jaime_...it was hard to tell anything had ever been wrong with her (much less that she'd been shot in the head)! She'd put on her running shoes with such vigor and enthusiasm that one loop had missed the other several times as she was tying them, but no matter; she was on her way and raring to go. Steve grinned broadly at her as he took a spot on the bench next to Rudy and jiggled Becca's stroller, eliciting giggles of joy from the child.

''Take some time to ease back into things,'' Rudy instructed Jaime. ''Slow-walk the first half and then an easy jog. Then -''

''Walk? Jog?'' Jaime exulted. ''Rudy, I wanna _run_!''

Rudy smiled. ''And you will. Just stop back here after the first round so I can check your vitals and then off you can go, at whatever pace your body feels most comfortable. I won't be timing you; I'd just like to see what you can do.''

Jaime kissed Steve and Becca in turn, then kissed Rudy's cheek for good measure before starting off. She found it even harder than expected to rein in all of her pent-up energy from so many months of such limited activity...but she followed Rudy's orders.

''You're worried,'' Rudy noted, reading Steve like a book after Jaime was on her way.

''I...no, I'm happy. Really. I just wish I understood how this happened...what Michael did...and whether it was safe. We're talking about messing with her brain, Rudy...her _brain_!''

''Michael's the best in the country to do that,'' Rudy reminded him, ''and quite possibly in the world.''

''Yeah; I know. But...''

''We'll keep a very close eye,'' Rudy promised.

* * *

''You're persistent. I like that in men,'' Anna told Michael and Mark quietly. She still showed no signs of fury, cunning or a return to her 'former self'. ''What is it I can do for you gentlemen before I've even had breakfast?''

Mark stepped a little closer. ''Now that you've had some time to think about things - and to sleep on it - is there anything else you'd like to tell us _voluntarily_?''

Anna closed her eyes for a moment. ''You know what? Since you worked so hard to beat me, I'm gonna throw you a bone. You need to bring Mr. Hansen back to see me. With the skills I taught him, he could still bring others into his own control...any time he chooses. I will take care of it.''

* * *

Jaime reached the bench still at a slow, comfortable jog but her feet wanted to keep on moving as Rudy checked her over and she made a few googly-eye faces at Becca.

Finally... ''Green light!'' Rudy proclaimed. ''Go ahead - and let's see what you can do.''

Jaime pumped a happy fist into the air and took off at a (human) speed Steve had thought she might never reach again. He turned to Rudy. ''Thinking of tuning her up again, aren't you?''

''She does seem, ready - physically, anyhow.''

Jaime reached the far end of the track, waved happily and picked up her speed a little more. She was just rounding the last curve when she tripped on a branch that the breeze had blown into her path - and fell sprawling onto the ground. Steve was beside her in mere seconds.

''I'm okay,'' she insisted, ''I just...I was so excited that I never even saw it.''

- - - - -


	30. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

''You're overreacting,'' Jaime sighed.

''Sweetheart, _you didn't even see it_!'' Steve reminded her.

''Because there was a breeze! It blew that branch onto the track, 'cause it wasn't there my first time around!''

''Steve's right,'' Rudy said in his usual gentle voice. ''While it may have just blown into your path, it's not like you to miss things - or to trip and fall. I'm going to admit you to Clayton for a few tests and -''

''What? No! Rudy, no disrespect,'' Jaime told him, ''but I am _not_ going back in the hospital! I've had enough hospitals for this lifetime, thank you - for ten lifetimes! And besides that - I feel fine!''

Steve and Rudy exchanged glances, as if trying to decide exactly whose problem it might be to try and argue with that firmly-set jaw this time.

''_NO hospital_!'' Jaime repeated. ''I'm not sick and I'm not injured. I. Am. Okay!''

''You're at least coming back to the lab, to let me test your vision,'' Rudy said firmly. ''_Period_. I would say 'end of discussion', but there will BE no discussion. I'll have Steve carry you over his shoulders if necessary! Understood?''

Jaime's stuck-out lower lip had absolutely no effect on the doctor. Resigned to following his orders, when they got there she walked into the lab with her arm around her husband - instead of riding over his shoulder. Vision tests (and everything else Rudy threw at her) came back normal. Jaime's endurance tests were off the chart for someone who wasn't bionic (yet).

* * *

While Russ was dispatched to see what he could do about fetching Hansen, Michael and Mark pulled chairs into Anna's cell and sat down. The 'power stance' of having two very tall men standing over her while she was seated hardly seemed necessary while she was being so cooperative. Mark though that sitting with her instead might invoke a more informal, 'chatty' mood in their subject. He was right.

''This could all have been the reverse, you know,'' she began with the same slight smile at Michael, ''and you'd have been sitting here instead of me...if Doctor Wells' choice had gone the other way.''

Michael shook his head. ''I'd have simply come back and tried again the next year - or the year after that.''

''No; we're of the same mind, you know.''

''Except I can control my own,'' Michael pointed out.

Mark leaned in closer. ''Anna, was Michael the only one who was able to resist what you tried to do to him?''

''But he didn't! He did some truly delicious, FUN things before he took his own thoughts back.''

''But were there others?'' Mark persisted. ''People you simply couldn't control?''

''Well...I'm not sure about Jack, since that method was completely different, easier to resist...but yes, even with my machine, there were several.''

''And who were they?''

''The biggest one was one of the most important: Steve's wife. _Jaime_. She was one of the initial people hit, in the hospital - and I even had Grant hit her again at the park. A direct hit!'' Anna marveled. ''I don't know how she did it!''

Mark and Michael both knew that Jaime's ear had deflected the rays, but they weren't about to offer up that information. ''Anyone else?'' Mark pressed.

''Well..._you_.''

Mark absorbed that info like a punch in the solar plexus, thinking of the potential damage that could have been caused if she'd been successful. ''Okay,'' he continued calmly, ''and what made Jack Hansen's method different?''

''First off, he had no machine.''

''So he could only give more general orders,'' Michael deduced, ''rather than specific commands?''

''Of course. Like when the plane came down; oh...that could've been fun! But instead he could only tell your minister friend to plant the device in a diaper bag.''

''The one Jess - Becca's nurse - carried.''

Anna nodded, still with that slight (completely complacent) smile. ''Of course. Worked, too.''

''With your machine - and the fact that you were putting actual thoughts into you victims' heads -''

''_Subjects_'' Anna corrected.

''Victims. Did that make their eyes look different...or could it?''

''Of course, since I was truly inside their heads; _telling them what to think_!'' Anna boasted. ''SO similar to what you both do every day; you're both able to _really_ get into their heads. Such a _delicious_ feeling, isn't it?''

* * *

When Anna was finished, Michael joined Oscar to make the rounds of all of Anna's former victims. Everyone was doing well. Jess and the minister had been released from Clayton Memorial with Mark Conrad to help them try and pick up the pieces. Finally, Oscar caught up with Rudy.

''How's our girl?'' Oscar wondered.

''_Stubborn_!''

''Back to normal, then,'' Oscar chuckled.

''I have a few concerns but I think it's safe to say that the Jaime we know and love is finally back,'' Rudy told him.

''So you'll be tuning her up soon, then?''

''Gradually, to watch closely how her body adjusts. She seems eager to get started.''

''That's great! Let's you and I go and see her before we call it a night!''

- - - - -


	31. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Steve hung up the phone and tried to collect his thoughts. At least he had half an hour to do so...and more importantly, to prepare Jaime. Oscar was on his way over with Rudy and Michael - and at Steve's suggestion, they would also be bringing Mark. Steve himself was trusting the therapist less and less these days, but Mark seemed to be able to reach Jaime when no one else could.

''Who was that?'' Jaime asked when she returned from checking on Becca.

''Rudy; he and Michael are on their way over.''

''This time of night? I mean, it isn't that late but still...! And Rudy saw enough of me already today. Why would he...'' she paused for a moment and then it hit her. ''Oh. They're bringing _**him**_...aren't they?''

''Oscar? Yes. Sweetheart, he really -''

''Well, forget it! I've got nothing to say to that man!''

''If you want Rudy to tune you up, you'll have to deal with Oscar sooner or later.''

''I'll just go in the bedroom! Better yet - I'll leave! Go for a walk or something! I have no interest - now or EVER - in 'dealing' with him!''

They were still at an impasse a half hour later when the doorbell rang. Jaime sat glowering on the sofa, a pillow hugged to her chest. Steve had promised he would take the bedroom door down and carry her out there bodily if he had to - and she knew he meant it. As their guests filed in, Jaime nodded to Michael and Rudy, smiled at Mark...and her eyes shot daggers at Oscar.

''Hi, Babe,'' Oscar said smoothly. He got no answer other than a white-hot glare. He took a seat in the chair closest to the sofa and continued to smile at her. The other men sat too, watching warily for the explosion they all sensed was coming. Steve sat next to his wife and wrapped is arm around her waist but instead of leaning into him, her body remained ramrod-straight.

''Rudy and Michael have both told me how well you're doing,'' Oscar told her warmly.

''What do you want?'' Jaime growled through clenched teeth. ''Social calls aren't your style, so I know you want something. Your style seems to be to try and turn a wife against her husband - when that wife is already cooperating - and there's nothing you can say that'll change that, so forget it! I - I'm not doing this!''

Jaime shifted to get up and storm out of the room, but Steve's loving arm around her body also became one of restraint. He was careful, as gentle as he could be and yet still ensured that Jaime would stay put. She wriggled against his hold and then began to struggle more furiously.

''That's all over with, Sweetheart,'' Steve tried to soothe. ''He was only trying to protect me -''

''Yeah? Well, your tactics _stink_, Mister Goldman - worse than cheese that's been left out in the sun! Worse than old, rotten meat or -''

''_That's enough, Jaime_!'' Mark said in his firmest, most authoritative voice. ''If you aren't able to talk at least civilly, then you can sit and listen!'' Jaime settled back onto the sofa, too angry to cry.

''Jaime,'' Oscar tried again, ''what I did was wrong...and I'm truly sorry for treating you that way. I'm sure you'll agree that the last thing any of us wanted was to have Steve brought up on charges.''

''No kidding!''

''But the way I went about it was unfair to you. I came to apologize...and to see for myself how you're feeling after Michael's treatment and everything you've been through.''

Jaime stared at him, her fury gradually abating. ''Then you don't...um...you're not here to try and make me work for you?''

''I doubt I could _'make'_ you do anything,'' Oscar chuckled.

''I would...well...I'd like to have Rudy start tuning me up,'' Jaime said, almost shyly. ''But working again...I'm just not sure.''

''And that'll be entirely your decision to make, if and when the time comes,'' Oscar promised. ''Yours and Steve's.''

Finally, with the awkwardness, anger and stubbornness gone, the group could really begin to _talk_. And for all of them, things would look (and feel) much different in the light of day.

* * *

END OF EPISODE (story to be continued in 'In the Light of Day')


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